Dolls
Where love has gone, a sign dry-rots in wind. We’re open but we’re not really there. Take these irons. Cauterise those eyes, honey. All lies begin here, the doc nods. I’ve got restless legs, she says. I’m caught up in stories. Nights, we lie hot under sheets, unquiet and high. Where love has gone, we parch and crack like empty plots drying in sun. Someone gets order accutane uk shot down a hole and spirals through cries. In bed we creak like lifesize dolls, dumb things pinned to the spot where love has gone.
Anindita Sengupta is the author of City of Water (Sahitya Akademi, 2010). She has read at national and international poetry festivals and been writer-in-residence at University of Kent, England. Her next book will be published by Paperwall. Her website is http://www.aninditasengupta.com