You think your eyes hold love
But she knows it's twisted and curved
The kind that makes her heart ache.
You think your touch is gentle
But she knows the abhorrence it disguises
The kind that makes her skin ache.
You think your embrace is pacifying
But she feels her bones crack with every turn
The kind that makes her soul ache.
But she hides the agony
With the satin scarf
And the dazed smoke
And chooses you
With the smithereens of her soul.
- Kasturi Banerjee








