Surviving Separation Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

Returning from the final violation
I was swallowed by the empty house.
The meal last cooked was there
in the weeping Frigidaire,
The room breathed emptiness.
Before it turns into a hell
I must leave things as they are,
the smell, the last used perfume,
the last reflection in the mirror,
I must freeze them all into a mummy.
All along I've been used to the presence
And now it was all disintegrating,
Crumbling with or without my touch
For unbearable days, months, years…
I yielded then to the rolling tears.