Narrated by Pitambar Naik
Drawing conclusions dabbled with cherries, and redemption. Did someone use the music of a red kerchief on the road to the Red Sea? Down the lawn, chasing the wilderness amidst the sandy horror was necessity. The aroma of the first rain is for life; but spices, garlic and other needs look rugged on the street. The crickets are fizzy, horribly creaking like bad luck licking the night’s thin body. Hunger kills more than coronavirus; numbers of algebra are like the diaphragm along the road. Dragonflies are absolutely like creeping déjà vu. Life hugs the soft innocence of humanity and the forbearance to remain hopeful. For days, we thought to mitigate our thirst. Now, your ring finger clashes with chaos for an opaque compromise. The old spring contaminates the cicadas’ notes of a distant relationship crisscrossing heartbeats. Every wait is an exchange of a message; however, we never fail to catch up on the horizon to be intimate.
BIO: Pitambar Naik grew up in Odisha in India. He’s an award-winning poet and the author of The Anatomy of Solitude (Hawakal) and a poetry/fiction reader for Remington Review. He has work forthcoming or published in The Indian Quarterly, New Contrast, Brushfire Literature, Liquid Imagination, Ghost City Review, Eunoia Review, Glass Poetry, Cha Journal, Vayavya, Occulum, Formercactus, Literary Orphan, The Punch Magazine, The World Belongs To Us (Anthology) HarperCollins India among others.