Why is it…

a poem by Prasenjit Maiti

Why is it that you always close your eyes while we are making love?
Why is it that we are always crossing swords?
Why is it that I cannot write to you anymore?
Why is it that you always get ever so lost in my coffee drizzles?
Why is it that I grow cold even while tending your young and supple breasts?
Why is it that you always walk away just before our orgasm?
Why is it that you make me forget all those lines I once tried to write about you?
Why is it that you are one of my unkept words?