by Rekha Seshadri
The starry night,
a red moon crescent,
the rhythm unfolds...
take a step forward
with fresh hope lingering
warily, the distance kept
the tables turned abrupt
the warrior sizing me up
a cruel smile, a rough tumble,
beaten, retreat into the cocoon.
Now it’s you, stepping
on the invisible line
pushing, prodding,
in disturbing waves
another piece of my heart
on the floor stomped,
the bright red blood
trickling under your
hob nailed shoes.
Dawn and momentary succour
to gather dense thoughts
find the will to break free
from the obsessed, maniacal
gaze you bestow.
Footfalls of the evening
all in vain
This addiction of mine
Still could be the death of me
To the dance floor we take
long ago willingly
often now at your behest.
Another twirl, another piece broken
till I can leave
without a backward glance.
Until you, someday,
see me for myself
Our love story not,
nor hints of normalcy,
the makings of a tragedy.
Last updated July 03, 2015