On The Mutability of Longing

By Rituranjan Gogoi

I stare in your eyes, dreaming of starry skies, dark oceans

You sit across the table holding a coffee cup,

And, our language is silence;

I say to you, ‘‘Tell me something impossible about love,’’

You just smile, a ripple in the stillness,

In your thoughts I pass like sand,

An image of smoke in the mirrors of memory.

Now, I can’t make music from the words which I never spoke,

Your beauty dies, and is revived again in desire’s shadow,

And, in your hands the rose becomes sorrow.

You look at me like the moon,

I become wasted,

Ordinary as dust, a remembrance

Ringing of forgetfulness;

And, all you say is – ‘‘I want a cigarette,’’

I suddenly smile to myself,

Thinking of the mutability of longing,

I touch your fingers

Breaking the illusion of distance,

And, the comfort of it is undeniably human!

By Rituranjan Gogoi