The wet distance between
Creation and desires
Compressed by differently
Smelling bodies;
Contours interlocked in
Unimaginable positions
Tired travellers doze off
Into happy deliverances
Jerked back to dreariness
By the steely shrieking of
Rolling wheels;
A poster appears from nowhere
‘Lost lovers contact urgently
There is a remedy to heartaches
Caused by love and spite’
Suddenly people go out of range
Dead instruments in hands
Vacant stares into wet darkness
Still the presence of those two
Evokes memories of bliss
Amongst the ghost like travellers;
A potion that gets life back to bones
Rain washes away the flowers
From a girl’s umbrella
And stitches stars on to it
Night, a cavern of illegible forms
With a lone starry umbrella floating
Arched underpasses
Into which there flows
Black ink of sorrows
Under each footstep
Silently they walk into it
Led by a child holding
A starry umbrella.
