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The Day Of The Eyes Opening You remember living here. Here she raises the usual annoying questions <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Kushal Poddar<\/strong> (1977- ) a native of Kolkata, India, writes poetries, fictions and scripts for television mini-series and is published worldwide. He is the author of All Our Fictional Dreams<\/em>, and his forthcoming book is Five Poets.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Day Of The Eyes Opening Those minute eyes sun conjures in the body of blue, you find in your mother\u2019s face. They worked her soft. Broke her down. They all stares at you- where were you last night? The nights before? You remember living here. In the same house. In the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3666","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3666","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3666"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3666\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3668,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3666\/revisions\/3668"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3666"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3666"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3666"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/span><\/strong>
\nThose minute eyes sun conjures
\nin the body of blue,
\nyou find in your mother\u2019s face.
\nThey worked her soft. Broke her down.
\nThey all stares at you- where were you last night?
\nThe nights before?<\/em><\/p>\n
\nIn the same house. In the room
\nwhose window makes the other eye for the ground floor.
\nYou want to dip your finger in the fluid skin
\nyour mother suddenly has on her.
\nIn another thought your nails pop out those eyes.
\nHere she makes the usual bad breakfast
\nyou have since your father slept away.<\/p>\n
\nshe sorts out before meeting you.
\nHere you gorge those banal and bland eggs.
\nHere is here.
\nA fly dead by the timepiece since the last dusting.
\nWhere does the in-between time period dissolve?
\n <\/p>\n