The flame sungs from
a fast-disappearing distance.
I see its orange-red footprints.
Soon it will sigh and begin
unbuilding. Its tools will
peel off the paint and the skin,
bricks and bones, strut, art
rich amasses, art that will be ashes.
I recognise the old friend whispering,
“Lets sleep, Pompeii position.”
“Run!” The other one in me
who has been burnt often,
has died again and again thursts in my lungs.
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Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor
Picture Nick Victor
Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
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Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
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