Notes from a Postcard by Jagari Mukherjee




(for Inam)

On my postcard tinted
with cherry blossoms,
I scribble notes for you
like a teenager lovelorn,
and blush at my words
of desire.

Spring has brought  flowers
to my door. I search for
you in the story of Mayakovsky.

The salt I mix with my fruit
becomes the tinge of your
mouth on mine, 
and my wooden hairbrush
guiltily plucks a strand that carries
your scent.

My postcard, too, has a fragrance
the texture of your breathing:
I inhale your roughness in the
ambrosia of a close-eyed  kiss.

From Letters to Inamorato 

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