Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Hazzaron Khwaishein Aisi....

To think it is a piano
and we,
creators of a silent music
We – you & I.
Not yours not mine
ours alone

pastover evening tea
Laughable – un
Timorous lips
Verbose, sore and
then sealed
Bread for a hungry stomach
Not even sympathy for an empty soul
Unjust? Who?
The roof leaks
and the skyof the stars
Brush my hair
and plait them.
A string of little, white flowers

Make tea
make memories
make stars shoot
make love
Fall in – fit out
Write down – rise up
Finger dance
alternate together
a little music
of silent fame
bas ek ilteja (just one request)

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