Like almost every other night, I lie awake
in my slumber. My senses lusting for you.
With wizened eyes I wish to see
your slender fingers, in cruel forgetfulness,
twisting me over.
Split open all the chambers and
spit, derisive; pull it apart for all to see.
Pull it apart as you daintily walk
with piercing, sharp, and nimble feet
on my softest fleshes.
Taunting my frightened face with the joy
of your command. Smelling my being,
my being the doll to be ripped apart
for a moment of perfervid ardor.
Unstitched, cotton heart fleeting in your dream
I dissipate, torn arms lying under your
party shoes; soaking discomfort, pain drafting
my martyrology within you.
Pick up the limbs, please, from under the overture
in convulsions of denial, frenzy, close to your
heart of hearts — hold them.
Heavy with your tears, stuff me back
to back myself I sew my self
until, in your careless laughter,
you render me fleeting cotton again
© 2007 Ritwik Banerjee
Render Me by
Ritwik Banerjee is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.