By Viplob Pratik
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A table on the corner of a restaurant.
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Half smoked cigarette is caught in my fingers
You are there; I am,
Face to face.
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I am telling something but mute
You are listening to me, but without any attention.
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The glasses of wine are recently backed in their position
And after we took the first sip,
One glass has a smear of lipstick on it
Another has on its outer part
A mark of wine drop.
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While trying to take another sip
Something weird happens
And the glass slips
Hops in the air
And crashes on the floor.
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Clink!
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What’s broken –- a glass or the heart?
Both are fragile.
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People look at us
And again become busy with them.
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The waiter is cleaning the floor.
Love has broken in our heart too,
.
But there is no waiter for us.
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Viplob Pratik was born and raised in Kathmandu, Nepal. He loves to travel, and has learned from other cultures and societies. He draws inspirations from everyday life. His thoughts are compact, and he is deeply sensitive to human values. His poetry collection ‘Nahareko Manchhe’ (translates to ‘The Undefeated Man’) and ‘A person kissed by the moon’ was published in 2005 and 2013 respectively and his debut novel ‘Abijit’ (the unconquered) was published in 2017.
~Bhim Karki
Frisco, Texas
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