Red monkey breath—
each petal flutters
like paper in
the gutters in
the turbulent energy
of its being.
Its love, a simian
logic (or the lack of it).
Swinging sinews
bind palm to branch,
to root—each
shoot
each leaf flutters too,
in the reckless dance
of its fleeing.
Ancient primal
primate love this,
that fills the
rhesus in my gut—
Red and throbbing
and vital
its song but,
just a note
short of freeing.
Anirban Kapil Baishya (14/5/2012)
