Illusory Acre.. Nirmal bhattacharya
It often happens that you
in moments of most lonesome silence
come out of the frame.
Is it because that it is the only picture
of you scattering love across
my nocturnal body?
I can see behind you an owl in a human shape.
His wings are as black as corporate smirks
behind the screen.
Is there a terror brewing up in the act?
Why is, then, this merry-go-round
of fiction and fact?
You are no longer on me.
Again you are back into the old
secure, non-violent frame
of the only picture.
And I am nowhere around your
God's illusory acre.
©️ 2021
in moments of most lonesome silence
come out of the frame.
Is it because that it is the only picture
of you scattering love across
my nocturnal body?
I can see behind you an owl in a human shape.
His wings are as black as corporate smirks
behind the screen.
Is there a terror brewing up in the act?
Why is, then, this merry-go-round
of fiction and fact?
You are no longer on me.
Again you are back into the old
secure, non-violent frame
of the only picture.
And I am nowhere around your
God's illusory acre.
©️ 2021
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