Carol D'Souza
A perfect seaside filter coffee leaves
a caramel bitterness on the tongue
Even in company, the crashing waves
of the sea only remind of the disconsolate
need for love. A passing fortune teller
offers to read my palm. It is not fair
to let her do so without letting her know
I have sworn off husband and children.
But the explanation will take too long,
and involve everybody from Deborah,
Shanta, Shashi, Rachel, Simone, Virginia,
Sara, Elena, Menka, Eunice, Kamala, to
Manjima and Paromita.
And with what nerve do I say—
cheeks starved of caress,
lips not kissed for a year and
a ravaged heart with welts
that still hankers after love—
that I am not looking for a man?
