By Mousumi Ghose
She is loved every night a thousand times,
Thrown away in the morning. ..
Like a rotten fruit or,
An empty basin.
Her velvet berth is painted red,
Yet she longs for that pristine white bed….
Ruffled with her passion
And fragrant from her lover’s breath.
Before she can respond. …
They all are gone.
It’s only then….
She wants to be in his arms for a few quiet moments.
The moments spent in his arms…
Are her treasured pearls,
As precious as a keg of water…
To a desert traveller.
(Mousumi works as an administrator in a reputed school in South Kolkata, West Bengal , India. She has been writing poetry since she was a child. Her love for the art has led some of her poems being published in local magazines and also e-magazines. A renowned spoken word performer in Kolkata, the beautiful Mousumi is married and has a son.)