Wednesday, 20 March 2019

Second kiss

Round and round 
On this merry-go-round 
Spinning yarns we go on and on 
Pleasure and pain into pleats 
of my saree; But when we get 
to unveil this fabric of guilt
You take a step back and so do I 
We can run away from each other 
like these galaxies 
They say one day they all will crash 
into one
Until I collapse in your exhausted arms
And ask if ever we had a beginning 
If ever, a second time we kissed.

Sunday, 10 March 2019

Until then

Until then, I will roll myself up 
into this blanket of words and phrases, 
I will make friends with thoughts and dreams.
Until then I will say to the stars 
that they were unborn once, and that I 
was born from them, once 
One day, the stars too will be gone, 
Some have, it seems, already died 
but shine anyway as though
They were ghosts of my words and dreams 
Refusing to believe 
in a death that spells silence.
Until then, there will be words,
 more of these letters and spaces strung together 
Forcing meaning into sounds and wounds 
And all of those in between could have beens.
One day, I too, will have no words
Until then though,
It’s not lips but those silent warmth of the stars
Not words but whispers of my name 
Not your arms, but your skin that melts into mine
Your breath, at once mine and  
not once evermore 
Until then, I shall imagine 
Glorious dreams to take to another star

How dare

You are right. And you are all right.
 All of this is true. 
It was also true that it needed to die 
because it was a lie
I have no right
 to stand here and question my fate
What stars and what lines can I sort out
When each and every word spoken by me
Is silent and cold
You are right, you are all very right 
I ask and ask, beg and borrow 
but what life demands of me, I never knew
Like someone who cares only for the skin
I ran after glory this sin called love
It was him and it was you 
Who hurt me more? 
Who did I kill more?
No one hears words that is why 
the sky is empty when it’s not blue
All of the darkness that covers my womb, 
seeks out in silence,
the source of that light 
which blew out the day I was born. 
And then I died twice in my unborn’s arms 
but still here I dare to ask, 
and beg and seek for love
Me, who could murder for lust
How dare I ask for more