Women woman Women… A Complete World

Women woman Women… A Complete World

Women… how many poems, paintings, quotes or pics we have made about them. Femininity has been one of the favorite topics of artists and authors during generations. Today, enjoy this amazing poem by the Indian author Adreyo Sen. Have a nice day, enjoy your weekend!

Women woman Women... A Complete World

Women woman Women… A Complete World

Dorothea Anjali

She brought us together.

Even the Billi,

who liked nothing better

than to bite people

and then wail

in that peculiar and demented

way of hers.

And then she began

to slip away.

Quietly excited, so sweetly small,

even though

she was taller than me,

she would fetch in the chicken

and pour us our glasses

of beer.

She would lean her curly head

on mine and watch us, dazed,

shaming us

with the love in her smile.

But before Billi had

her first fight of the night

and made up with that

full nose we loved squeezing,

she would be gone.

Just like that.

No one ever saw her go.

We would find our glasses replenished

by our side.

Sometimes we would find her

in her papa’s armchair, that ancient

beast stained black with cigarette

ash, her feet curled over the side

like little offerings.

We would paint her with sketch pens

and carry her off

to bed.

Sometimes she would be

crying over my daughter,

or telling her a story

as Em pretended to sleep,

her hand itching to touch my strange

and troubled friend.

We would close the door softly

on those two children.

Sometimes she would be in the

foyer with the boys, telling them all

she had forgotten about life.

They listened, enchanted.

They were all in love with her.

Then she would forget she was

no longer in Westchester. And when she

started looking for her dead mother,

the boys would hold her

by the waist

and bring her home,

where we would be waiting,

each feeling the fear

we never shared.

And then she was gone forever.

Just like that.

No longer does she

organise our play or refill

our glasses.

She lies so slight at my side,

her little feet pointing to mine,

her breath softer than a


And when we are done

pretending the life

she carved for us

with the sweet seriousness

of her humour,

the terrifying absoluteness

of her love,

I take my little baby up,

undress her quietness

and put her back to sleep

by my side.

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Adreyo Sen, based in Kolkata, hopes to become a full-time writer. He did his undergraduate work in English and his postgraduate work in English and Sociology. He has been published in Danse Macabre and Kritya.

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