For my third love 

Sailen Routray

Solitary tree in the Westrup Heath, Germany (2025)
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org/Dietmar Rabich

The fragrance of your hair

is smoother than the razor’s edge;

What shall I do with it?

Scrub it on my body,

or sell it to the highest bidder? 

Your body tastes better 

than the last tears of love;

what shall I do with the taste?

brush it on my lips

or seal it inside the failures of my heart?

The groove of your words is 

more treacherous than

November rains;

what shall I do with that groove?

Put it on my eyes?

Or spread it across the

deep crevices of your pains?