Through Cover

When on days you undress like trees, when
it is autumn, you become one of them;

like a stranger, I look at your shed leaves, on
days some are red, on other days yellow,

some days it’s a plethora of colours, your
favourite ones still green; your bare bark —

skin — not the usual colour of trees, shining
under the little sunlight that reaches us

and you engulf me like smoke, in your
presence I burn to the colour of coal embers,

with an inextinguishable desire to go cold,
by you; the way winter does, under snow:

willow and chinar, now white, reflecting
light to make rainbows — your skin

becoming one of them; when, for days,
winter does not leave, I engrave myself in

you: even in death, you must be more than cold

Previous articleThe Mall
Next articleQuintality
Jayant Kashyap is a Pushcart Prize-nominee, and among other achievements, one of his poems was also featured in the Healing Words awards ceremony, and a couple others won places in Young Poets Network’s challenges. He is also the co-founding editor of e-magazine Bold + Italic, an amateur photographer with several publication credits, a book reviewer and a food blogger. His debut chapbook, Survival, comes soon.


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here