A Tribute to Purnima Dabholkar
Desire responding
like a flower in osmosis
the touch, the feverish grasp.
The absence.
A traumatic loss
of the proximity.
The flower
without age.
After a spell of withering
a tide of yearning
calls.
A waste of beauty
can be frightening.
The beauty without a mirror to know its magic
without the seeping rain, absorbing sky,
and without the earth to take it in.
Years go by as the Desire renews the Body
feeling a shower of kisses
falling on its soil
The typing of fingers
stopping in wait,
for the emerging note
from the warm cavern .
A mermaid rises
pressing her palms
against the water ,
Desire rises.
Sushama Karnik.
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