EVM

by Pancham Banerjee

Voter's ink
the colour of night
Spilled across the skies
While I waited for her
beneath a neon halo of Empire

My hair was a mess in the
October breeze

Having no mirror
I took my pocket handkerchief
and polished the
scratched surface of the night
Till it reflected me with
minimal aberrations

I combed my hair then.

Just in time too for
she arrived and we played cat's cradle
with bits of orange string

While the universe precipitated
slowly back onto my mirror.