Theme: Love

Nine to my Beatrice-III

by N. S. Murty
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I know I am up against an iceberg.

 

My Titanic love had hit you and broke to pieces.

 

Now, I struggle like an eviscerated frog

 

On the dissecting table in a biology lab.

 

Not that you are passionless;

 

But your eyelids drop down

 

Like autumnal leaves looking at me.

 

There is a great Saharan silence

 

That I have been unable to break

 

Which kills me.

 

The pain permeates my psyche

 

And I suffer a wordless agony.

 

As your admirer

 

Don't I deserve a minute's court?

 

A minute's attention?

 

Even a flower beyond my reach

 

Wouldn't forbid me from looking at it.

 

All beautiful things are part of nature.

 

They have no preferences

 

When someone tries to please himself

 

Without infringement or interference.

 

Grant me this concession:

 

To pass these hours of angst

 

Merely looking at you,

 

Your movements

 

And their grace.

 

11-Oct-2018

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