Aparna Chatterjee Poems

In this
Heatwave,
When my
Bed becomes
...

They've
Asked me
To chop off
The tree as
...

He's so much
Enmeshed in me
That sometimes
When I speak
...

They don't
Have the
Guts to
Ask me
...

She's so
Gentle as
The breeze
...

I know
I'm
Crumbling
Inside
...

Like
Most
Guys,
Those
...

Plums and
Pears and
Summer
Fruits -
...

Sometimes
My mind is
Foggy and
Hazy just
...

The thought
Of my son
Leaving my
Home is
...