It is a black book for her
dialogues in white though
eyes here and there
like a cat's
sparkling on different corners
suggesting the presence
and absence of beings
*******
It is a flower book for her
no dialogue
but the very beingof herself
as a flower
no two flowers are same
thats the wisdom of this book
********
Then it is a book of crocodiles for her
hence that of rivers and depth
ya, tales and desires too
two crocodiles side by side
lying head to tale
tale to head
it is not a book of wisdom
but that one of waters and their currents
*******
It is a book of hair for her
not a book of heir, mind you
she didnt produce anything
she didnt induce anything
lived childless
but never lived loveless
*****
an invisible hand
a soulfull dance in haste
she writes my name
and posts it
*******
