Incubus

I walked through a gloomy 'mare
I gaped beyond a crippled pane
past the fumes and rain
Look
she   her petals   her leaves
on the grass
Had it been a dream?
Though it did seem
woven from the fabrics of
memories
Buried    her box    her stone

A faint whiff of the red
The loud drops of the blue
Hear
her roots    her earth    she
taking your bricks
Was it not what it seemed?
Whispers of the sky
haunting of the gone
Voices
parched    her skin    her bones.

The plum lips    sour and stale
Her sable tongue on the wall
Feel
your nape   your quivering limbs
dancing to her mournings
She reeking of death
Whilst    you stench of sin
The cloaked wails
crooning
out    her waning songs

Sayantan Sur is a Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Delhi. His works have been published in Borderless, and Scientific Reports among other journals. He has won the 2019 AWSAR award for articulating the best science story.

Find more by Sayantan Sur in the Author Index.