We have established a routine
Sitting on the rocks,
Being pulled by the lure of the black sea
Violent, turbulent and it still calls
And you are tempted
Tempted to go just a bit nearer
This happens everyday
Till the third day
For three days
We pile out of our rooms
Knock on doors
We walk the streets christened with French names
We walk, we smoke
We sing a Puducherry song
And we eat, counting the decreasing wad of cash
Young, and penniless- our predicament
We file back into our rooms
By midnight
Doors close
And in smoke-filled rooms
(The kind I imagined the poets inhabited
When struck by poverty
Or heartbreak, whichever you please)
You pull me close
Tug at my blouse
Mouths and tongues dissolve
We have established a routine.
Sitting on the rocks,
Being pulled by the lure of the black sea
Violent, turbulent and it still calls
And you are tempted
Tempted to go just a bit nearer
This happens everyday
Till the third day
For three days
We pile out of our rooms
Knock on doors
We walk the streets christened with French names
We walk, we smoke
We sing a Puducherry song
And we eat, counting the decreasing wad of cash
Young, and penniless- our predicament
We file back into our rooms
By midnight
Doors close
And in smoke-filled rooms
(The kind I imagined the poets inhabited
When struck by poverty
Or heartbreak, whichever you please)
You pull me close
Tug at my blouse
Mouths and tongues dissolve
We have established a routine.
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