Sunday, 4 February 2024

The closet

 

 

Crumpled parts of me

The soliloquy confessions

Hanged masks , cremated souls

And buried roots , uprooted twigs

The sky of an open cage

And a wingless opportunity

There is a night that renders

Visibility to scribbled constellations

From the surrendered ground

The lies that are displayed outside

Lie concealed in the closet.

 

Delhi

4.2.24

18.26 hrs

2117

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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