His Body

He spreads out        his body        on the glass
Pane. In the greenhouse        there are
Insatiable trees growing. A white kite
Is stuck        between        two glass ridges. Something
Bleeds. I am        without water,        as I stare
Up. His body        is an extended mystery, troublesome
To watch - a spider-web        without
A spider, a dead insect        with deep
Blue eyes. The sky        beyond him        is pale
Blue, as if        it is        bleeding
Itself into him. He stirs        as if
Someone is        slowly        pulling out
His wings. His children
Play inside the greenhouse.        Leaves
Scatter gaily. His love is        a coil
Of rope, writhing        between his legs.
His toenails stretch        faraway. A sharp kite string
Bites his eyes.        Dark lids,
Bluely bleeding.

By Trina Nileena Banerjee

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