You're gruff in tone and bitter in taste

But when you entrammel your fingers

In my messy chignon

And brush them against my nape

It feels like a revolting catestrophe

As you bedeck it with those asters

Your silence entangles my silence

And in those moments, my sweetheart

Our hearts turn warm like a disaster.

You're a war, a cold hostile lore

Holding me captive in stupor

Yet I read you like a poetry

Soft, firm and compulsive -

A warm, romantic eulogy

Where every time I win, I lose

And everytime you lose, you win.

You're a paradox

An enigma that sqeezes my brain

A slow poison as essential as the vein

Running down my wrist

And if breaking hearts was an art

My sweetheart,

You're an excellent artist.

- Nirmali Medhi