Whore by the Ganges

  • SumoMe

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The wind by the Ganges

Carried the smell of fresh catch

As he panted beside her.

 

The little mouth quivering

Tasting the aftermath of a storm,

A mere lullaby, an everyday norm.

 

Her expert hands casually

Placed on his skin

Where it caught fire in the breeze.

As she slipped inside with ease.

 

The brown muddy water

Was dirtier than her tricks

And the ripples they created

Encircled their little boat that rocked under their weight;

“It is getting late”.

 

She always dismissed him

With those four words.

 

He got up with a frown;

Sulking like a cat,

He left for the town.

 

The boat toppled over

With the weight of her heart.

And then her old ally darkness

Tore her apart.

 

Ishani Banerjee

Image Source: The Viewspaper

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