Life at the Pola

Corrugated iron clad shards cuts deep veins
The baby sighed and said
As fragments of its words, scattered
Plaster on the wall shattered
And time still ran.

Deep, unspeakable love
Momentary haze, a glint radiates
The smile.

The red papaya is best eaten before tomorrow
Vendors thronged to see to her, knowing
The unripe fruit would last longer
Than unborn

I will kill today she said within
Love has little measure of sanity
And even less room for compassion



Gently, carefully, lovingly cried the fresh skin
As it entered outside
Seeing warm sinews of earth and fire
Melting into a ball
Of love.

They say the air ripples through the hair
Softly at first
Then it sucks you
Instantly attractive, insatiable
A thousand hands flying, groping, reaching
Limbs to disconnect

Her soul, fresh
Was sold at Rs. 10 a kilo

A bargain
I am told.


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