Our Last Meeting Poem by Soumita Sarkar

Our Last Meeting



I said so in a tone low
I got what I din't let go
You saw a deny float
To ride over that beat
which we rode together
Amazement burst in a magic row
I never wanted how this to grow
Slip one slap of denial
Call one neglect of menial
Hazard lured in a corner
I had to be the mourner
Stretched a line of monotone
Suddenly I heard this ringtone
A thought of a strange land
Infected then veins of my hand
One touch one sound
Two skin went round
A grip a short spot grip
You and me a fancy trip
Hollow ground and air
Two breath one fear
One goodbye one stop
That was we last met

Saturday, December 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: meeting
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