The Grey Morning

The Grey Morning

It was dawn,

or midnight

I dreamed of us,

I was swaying at the rhythm of your flute,

the tune commanding

to dream further.

I agreed and you called me your beloved,

Roses, lilies, night queens

grew on my breasts

and you owned a bower;

I denied and turned into a hag

with sagging gait,

My back covered with fungi;

I imposed,

Pressed you down,

Turned to a witch

with claws of shining brass

and boiled your manhood

in the hot cauldron

between my thighs.

 

The orgy continued

till it was

a morning that mourned in grey

of ash and fire.

 

Dr. Preetinicha Barman (1982) teaches English Literature at Women’s College, Shillong. She writes in English, Assamese and Rajbangshi languages. Orhan Pamuk: A Critical Reading is her critical book. Some of her English poems were published in the print and e-journals like Muse India, Peregrine Muse, The Thumbprint Magazine, Ethos Literary Journal etc. Aiyor Photok is her collection of Rajbangshi poems.  Her critical essays have been published in various journals, both print and web as well as collected volumes. She is also a Classical Manipuri dancer.