I know a bird in whose beak I tucked the letter I wrote for you. The bird had flown with the letter in its beak rummaging perplexity’s by lanes, without ever reaching you.
I know about a postman that has intercepted and read all your sad notes through the years leaving me only empty envelopes.
And this is what I am. A descendant of a blackballed word-monger,
I have by now depicted all over your body the taste buds of punctuation marks I have come across in the grammar book of the sea of shadows -So that I can bit by bit
Bit by bit
Read you out and out…
(Translated by Subrata Augustine Gomes)
About the Poet