Not the Same Song

He sings a lot of songs for me I didn't know

were meant for us. You take me, one moment.

Last September, we met for the first time

and didn't know where to begin, driving past colonies, shy

to even hold hands. You stood with my flower, rehearsing

lines, wanting to kiss. We couldn't, infront of all,

two boys in a mall- how could we?

You sang that little song.

Months have passed since then, and you still sing their songs,

written by them, adjectives embellised like a fall-

Why? Can't we start with our own queer range

two boys in a mall, wanting to kiss freely afterall?

Just two boys, madly in love, embracing blurry-eyed on stage,

so breathe- hold my hands, and the rest will join-

look queer into my eyes, you bet this is the sign of our call.

---

Santanu Das is a queer Indian poet from Chandannagar. His works have been featured in Live Wire Spark, Borderless, Line Rider Press and elsewhere. He tweets at @santupecha100.