Amit Parmessur is a poet and teacher. He has been published in several print and online journals. A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web nominee, he lives in one of the most beautiful islands in the world, Mauritius.
A man who has never made a woman angry
is a failure in life. – CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
Today her hatred seeped sinuously into the cold key
she used to open a fresh door, with the pane just mended.
The anger hissed into the chalk she used to instruct
her students on the calm Friday blackboard.
The anger moved her feet down the stairs like maggots
and made her stop and stare at his disjointed face
in the once penitent photo.
The anger threatened to unlock her between each breath;
she wanted to tell him that every teardrop is a like waterfall
of hatred ready to burn him.
Today, as her anger seeped sinuously into the cold song
playing on her body a thousand times, wiping her senses,
she bit her nails to burgeon new, red fingers to point at him.
She did not ask for the rotten moon, goodness me!
The light of the entire world cannot wash the shadow of this
castrated candle. This woman hates like a pane mended – just.