Magnetic Skin

Listen folks over here let me tell you somethin’,
I will tell you today of the magnetic skin.
The heart craves for those days of the past,
Which we have only heard of, saw nothin’.
Heard that she with the pot on her head,
Went miles to the river where her clothes she shed,
And whilst bathing in the sunshine she used to sing,
And from far places water she used to bring,
Perspiring on her way, she being of weak built,
And heavy being the pot, in front she would tilt.
We search today for those earrings around,
And we search today for lips tight bound,
Kohl on the eyes, and braids on her hair,
And the beautiful gait of girls slim and fair,
Those days have passed, it won’t come again,
When she used to dance in the beautiful rain.
And the three small spots at the end of the chin,
When we used to wait to see the magnetic skin.
The anklets, the bangles, the silences all gone,
The swings of rain, the letters all torn,
Nights awake, pillows wet,
No more these things anyone will get,
Eyes’ talks, lips’ words, promises to die,
All these seem now cold and wry.
Still there is a wish, deep in my heart,
That we’ll again see them, when death do us apart.

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