January 22, 2018




by Shahinur Islam

Leaving me in the ignoring darkness

she has slipped far away, outside the circumference

beyond the circle of light, responding

to the will-o’-the-wisp

like the moment slipping away

from the present into the dead end of the past.

I long to return her no longer.

I know however colourful the twilight might be,

after a moment it seems

to lose  the letters under the evening cover,

lying as an unread novel on the night bosom.

She has slipped away forever

from my heart-yard;

she, my goddess, has run away

with all love in her fists.

She has left only

the quake of love, the crying vibration in my bones.

So I still cry,

so I still quiver

as soon as I open the heart-shutter.

By crying and quivering

I have only known

with the bump of tectonic plates,

the earthquake ends though,

with the bump of her love

the heart-quake goes on in a row.

copyright © 2017 by the poet

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