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