The only one kind of love

Note: I had first started writing this poem when I was all of twenty-four years, just before moving out of a relationship, my first love, which was a couple of years old, which, I had realized by then, had no possibility of being consummated in marriage. The poem in its rough, unedited form was lying in a nearly discarded notebook, and after years of marriage and motherhood, I had the chance of talking to that ‘old scar’ for whom the poem originated, when I visited my hometown in West Bengal, India, following my mother’s sudden demise in 2013. We had talked over the phone for a couple of days but then decided to go for a total closure as the rough edges of my very young days were bruising me with that unsolicited correspondence. However, the one thing good which came out of it is that even the poem found a closure, as I expanded it, edited it and made it a part of my debut poetry collection ‘Let The Night Sing’. The book has been published in July 2017 by Global Fraternity of Poets.

I had given you my stone studded love

love, roaring like the lazy lion,