A surge of youth
like, a flash flood
moonrise
arise from your nest and fly
mirror-work on a backless blouse
the nine nights of Raas
fire, on a burning dry grass
the flush on her fair skin
days drop into the past
nights don’t look back
her touch lives on my chest
images, in the eyes of the mind
the bylanes of memory, an old city
a courtyard, a balcony….a half-known face
she close-dances with someone else
her arms stretched around his neck
his eyes, her eyes.. her legs, his legs
should I sink my head in the sand
or punch a hole in my eye
youth, ducking off my arms
life ripening like an incurable disease
the rows of honking, fuming bikes
the dark & deep waters of Mahi
the heat of swelling desire
breathing of itself
of musk, deodorant, oils of old
round baguette diamonds set in gold
of a smile sparkling in rich coloured lips
you fill me like
a walk in barren countryside
a stream, wildflowers, hillside
she cuts abstract shapes
on white glasses of plastic
gossiping with her fast friend
as night thickens
so does desire
you wish her friend
would disappear
and this dawdle stops
the lights go off
the stars of the sky
beam on her thigh
the death-god grins
age…..emptying from a broken pot
the brown season of falling leaves
of wind that rustles naked trees
thick, blow-dried hair cover her face
she is all white, the colour of mourning
her eyes drop, lips remain open
she feels sad, does not cry
a flock of white cranes, alarmed
searches for nest, finds no nest
separation
the companionship of pain
friendship with a world of solitude
the city of Sayaji Rao
the banyan trees
my youth will become a song
and I – a story
and the sky will look far away
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