Treasure Island

Debanjan Dhar

(14.6.1989 / Calcutta)

Blind Spot


I dream of you in the dawning hope,
I reached for you and slid down the slope,
I saw I had my pockets full of withered leaves from June.

In the months of madness I had to toy
With ideas that could well annoy
The walk of a travelling man in his God laid grounds.

But as I remember watching the back of you,
The freak rain was my clear cue
To the turn the page or burn the bookshelf down

And all of the ladders I’ve ever found,
I have carried them all the way to the sound
Of the window’s rattling by the bellow of your sigh.

And all of the steps that broke on me,
Never could have me on your knee again.
I jumped along and I jumped around on the burning fields of dreams

I saw you swish by my blind spot.
Since you unwished all you had thought,
I receive empty envelopes everyday by my morning bed.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 03, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013

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