Facing Mirror Poem by Shyam Chakraborty

When I hear him saying love,
I take my shirt off and show him
The scars, the ache undergone
When sky was silent…
And then he again stirs my pleasures,
The glint of twinge that often torments…
I left behind and get lost in you again and again,
The grip of hunger for which they named us men,
My heart plundered to take my soul
On the crest of a wave, and we praise
Our naive disrobed bodies standing
still facing mirror.