A lost manuscript is a woman once loved.
Once written.
Caressed with chappy fingers.
Nestled between sweat soaked pillows.
Of the poor poet who lost it on the tram line.
Now she doesn't know who wrote her.
Doesn't know who loved.
Crumpled in an old tin trunk
She writes herself.
Unpublished.
© Sudeshna Sanyal
Once written.
Caressed with chappy fingers.
Nestled between sweat soaked pillows.
Of the poor poet who lost it on the tram line.
Now she doesn't know who wrote her.
Doesn't know who loved.
Crumpled in an old tin trunk
She writes herself.
Unpublished.
© Sudeshna Sanyal
Beautiful ....the woman, the perpetual enigma!
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