Passion

By Jayati Ghose

Crumpled sheets reek of passion.

What of the unslept bed and its emotion?

Pristine white sheets. No wrinkles. No stain.

Fluttering rose petals. Crimson. Vain.

Bathed in moonlight.

The window open wide.

The night still. Bright.

Nowhere to hide from the moon.

Swollen, like her breasts.

Heaving from her chest.

Her silhouette dark, eyes red.

Matching her hair. Dead.

A teardrop glistens.

But a moment ago, the night was ripped.

With sobs of a broken heart.

By Jayati Ghose