Sculpture Poem by Aneek Chatterjee

The sky was cloudy since afternoon
but the storm, like you, came late.
I was waiting in my room,
my only room, small, my big world.
You came with the storm,
as always without a norm,
fully drenched.
Saree pasted in your body
Hairs like the cloud I've been watching
this evening for thousand years.
You're the sculpture I've seen
in many ancient caves.
Lightning outside, incessant rains
ignited a terrible fire
and I wanted the paste removed
from your body
I wanted to see the sculpture.
You switched off the light
or was it the storm that took the light
away from my room?
I could not remember
Rains, rains, storm
I was supposed to be drenched
But I could vividly recollect
that I got burnt that evening
from my contact with a drenched
body terribly hot
But we enjoyed, as you told me,
the burning sensation when the
sculpture was invaded,
amid frequent lightning.

I touched many sculptures
in caves, museums, art galleries
they always felt cold; - - -
except one drenched sculpture
in a rainy evening.

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(From Aneek Chatterjee, "Seaside Myopia: A Book of Poems", Cyberwit.net,2018. First Published in the 'Burning Desire', Poetry Planet)