In the burnt sienna of a somnolent afternoon
the soul’s desert thirsts for the pink nectar
of a prickly pear.
At night, the stars cut into the velvet
of a cold-shiver painted swiftly
with a few strokes of black brush pens.
My inadequate fingers fumble
with a hardbound sketchbook
where I first drew a mermaid with glitter glue
and then painted a witch with rosy cheeks.
(You adore the mole on my shoulder.)
I carry the tubes of watercolors gifted by you
everywhere I go, blue sprinkling skies under which
lie the shortest routes back to you.
The only geography we know are those of our bodies–
where the burnt sienna turns cinnamon
merging afternoons and nights.
My color palettes are missing shades of water.
I stare at the pages of the sketchbook
at a loss how to portray our consummation.


Jagari Mukherjee is an award-winning poet and reviewer based in Kolkata, India. She is the Founder and Managing Editor of EKL Review.

2 replies on “Burnt Sienna by Jagari Mukherjee

Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.