Nose Ring

My friend has a fetish for nose rings

The pierced nose of his girl friend reminds him of mother:
Her silk wedding saree with circular prints,
its cockroach licks and holes concealed between its folds
in an old trunk that opens itself only to her
in their solitudes

It reminds him of the old, lovable grandmas in the Brahmin street:
the prayers that escape from their circular lips
in front of flickering lamps, the loops in their silvery hair
smiling like the burning wick out of its own hope.

On the benches of small, dark gardens
he holds her close and touches the ring gently
to feel soused by the shadows in that deep school well
which never dries up from fantasies

On nights when the angels and demons
sing from the branches of distant trees,
he sits in his verandah
and watches the half face of moon,
for long.

Aditya Shankar

If you have anything to say about this poem, Aditya Shankar would like to hear it.

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