Cold
your delhi is colder than my cal you said
9 degrees is 9 degrees I retorted
with a frantic koel shrieking cold cold cold in a distant tree
no mist veiled sun to speak of
your calcutta 9 is delhi’s nineteen cousin she said
shuffling jack frost from the pack of frozen cards
cold is relative
cold is colder in the tangle of the words
the game of whose city wins brandished like an ace
while the fires burn on both nightscapes
and the shadows shiver
something freezes over at dawn
the pack of cards
or the coldness of your heart?