6 pm

I see them fly home,
formations zoomed out from our
tenth level apartment –
velvet black against sunset skies:
iridescence lining a cusp of
vermillion red.

Graffiti men
pull out beers, siphoning out
exhaustion, and
political velleity, high up over
streams of fluid lights (like
those in your long exposure clicks)
neon brightness racing
around, and
further out,
stretching past the horizon, my

salt water sea:
copper-orange skinned.

I remember incense smoke,
and conch;
Darjeeling tea, with
Marie biscuits, of 6 pm-s
back home.

Indian evenings.

Pale twilight filters in, sheathing
time in caresses of
nostalgia, and
I feel the whispering touch
of your
loving lips upon
my distended belly.

©Mohana Das


7 thoughts on “6 pm

  1. fabulous…


    Hope that you have had a great Merry Christmas.

    Thanks for the delightful support along the way,

    Happy New Year.

    Share a piece of your poetry today at our poetry party today,

    Have fun!

    Sending you love and blessings.


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