Thirst Poem by MOLOY BHATTACHARYA

On her first wedding night
The new bride disrobes
And waits for erotic odour,
A wave of flame runs mad
In her body to get the touch
And sever her hymen,
To unlock nubile virginity
That she reared for long.
Suddenly she feels
Her soft bosoms turn taut
And a mutiny in the chasm,
All the limbs amorously
Cry for a hard phallus
That she adores and rubs
But it never stands tall
To gratify her piercing thirst.
She fears foul and oils
Still it collapses to a fall.
She begs him, helps him
To overcome the nightmare.
With a slap, he confesses
That he is a born impotent.
Next day she calls her swain
To book a room for a night.