Poetry | Debarshi Mitra | Part 1

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Found Prayer

Let my name 
fade away
but these words
let them rise as if
out of nothing 
but thin air 
and parched land.
Let them speak 
as the sky speaks
only in the dialect of light,
let nothing remain 
but these
let them be.


You undress
bit by bit
and night descends
I lie here staring
at the ceiling,
outside the pigeons
flutter their wings,
you undress
bit by bit,
the bones shiver,
you say something
I don’t catch
instead I think of
a blood stained knife
and smile and
say nothing.


Outside, the sky
in so many shades 
of pink.

Here, a crow 
pecking at  
the unrelenting window.

* Debarshi Mitra is the winner of The Srinivas Rayaprol Prize, 2017

Read Part 2 of Debarshi's poems here

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