
Come Closer
by Sabyasachi Roy
half of you glows. the other half—hiding behind some night.
your eye a small revolt, like you know
every secret the dark keeps.
I shouldn’t love you. but you’re in my bloodstream,
you lean out of the dark like a dare. I take it.
I take all of it—the hush, the heat…mistake.
your face half-lit, half-lie. your breath, static and church bells.
I want to kiss you through a blackout,
to bite the syllables of your name.
the room tilts. somewhere, someone drops a glass.
you don’t move. you just burn quieter.
I keep calling you shadow,
but you keep answering like a flame.
and god, when the light cuts back in—
when it remembers your skin—
don’t look at me like that. I’ll ruin it. I always do.
but stay. just long enough for me:
to forget which half of us is real.

Sabyasachi Roy is an academic writer, poet, artist, and photographer. His poetry has appeared in Viridine Literary, The Broken Spine, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review, The Potomac, and more. He contributes craft essays to Authors Publish and has a cover image in Sanctuary Asia. His oil paintings have been published in The Hooghly Review.