after last nights dinner
you grabbed a pencil
and drew a boy
with a curly head
a ball of scribbles
you left me to flip
through the sketches
I thought-
if my poems are self portraits
with a head of scribbles too?
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खुले नीले आस्मां तले हवा ने अपने पंख खोले और तुम्हारी मुस्कान से चले एक राह निकली है मुझतक तुम्हारे ... -
At night at night you're not here at night at night you're not here any more than day at night you're not here no more do I dre... -
You want to be like glue stuck and warm, creasing my body removable, but not easily If I tear at you, it will hurt It turns out I am plaster...
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