Summers have long days,
for you to lay back on the bed and snort emptiness from the hour glass.
The contemplative contour of the street
running into zipped mouths,
gazes that ponder over roof tops
at your limewashed ceiling.
Your drooping spirit like the fan that hangs
between time and duree.
Your heart is as old as compost
like soot on the blade ends, darker at the edges and layered in between.
Like the way you think of events of the other day. A collision of id and ego? That same story?
The fan that hangs a life also hangs a tale.
There are trials. To shape round. To complete.
Your sliced mind, always in transit on a path towards circuitry.
There, like the blades, a whole in their fiercest reverie. Wings stretching to touch each other.
Summers are uncannily long. Like the bottomless full of your mind.
Ayan Chakraborty is a PhD Research scholar and a Junior Research fellow at Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India. He comes from Kolkata, West Bengal in India. He is a student of English Literature and enjoys poetry and fiction. He has published several critical academic articles in his sphere of work that mostly concern philosophical linguistics and political philosophy.