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Oct 2014
I
Here I am
Dressed in the sleeve of a gifted shirt
Muttering words, too fast, in a language you cannot fathom
Hair tousled in the wind, hands waving
Wearing a smile borrowed from an old photograph
Legs thinner than before.

There you lie
Never too far but always at a distance
Forever moving a little bit too quick
And yet, slowing down time
Whispering through a half smile
Like the sun about to rise
From my window
Almost a perfect circle,
She dances.

Here I stand
Building a wall
With each brick, a memory of
No one.
Stealing the night from her eyes
Spinning in the circle
Of perennial dress rehearsal
Adorned with tatters of yesterday
This circus grows vile.

And behind the empty canvas of every mask
Your eyes are open cages
With singing birds
Your words are roads going nowhere
Your mouth, a lake with depths unknown
Even though your tongue is still
But your hands are doors that never open
As you watch me
Watching you
Dangle the world
From your keychain.
aazar anis
Written by
aazar anis  New Delhi
(New Delhi)   
611
 
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