Darkness Poem by Boudhayan Mukherjee

The brain keeps thawing
expressions, desire
to moult
like a cockroach delicately white.
The gate mushroomed
before her and she entered
our house.
The day collapsed
into night and she drank
the smell of our pillows.At night
we are gifted with strong
desire to moult.
The white of my skin
reflected the hard lights of my room
and she was blinded
[sunlight on snowy mirror, remember? ]
she was blinded
she was blinded....