Spent Decembers

This faux winter chill, a shiver sliding down its grey back, like a
metal zipper slowly unveiling the twilight hush - the long evenings

come early now, the heat of sour whiskey breath against covered
necks as the pale sun slips away, shamed into the restless clouds

and memories lie untouched on the plate before us, like kebabs on
a skewer, still bubbling from the tumult of the clay oven, meat and

vegetables, spices awakening days that were months, that are
moments - you take another swig from your glass, dulling the

edges of the past, softer now, see how easily we cling to things
without harsh edges. What really happened that day, you want

to ask, when the cold crept in through unheated concrete walls
and straddled the bed, eager, un-anointed, time running its warped

fingers over a rosary of spent Decembers, the wool rough against
eager, bare thighs, January always just a roll, a fever, a chant away.


Bangalore, Karnataka, India

I am a poet from Bangalore, India and I post my work on thotpurge.wordpress.com

Some of my poems have recently appeared in online journals such as The Lake, Ekphrastic Review and The Calamus Journal.

Rajani RadhakrishnanComment