I want to write
Stories
Poetry
Blood from my eyes
I want to reel out the ‘kerchief of kahanis
Like the magician who pulls silken snatches of cloth from his mouth
Endless
Like my ragged breath
Unravelling
As sneakily as my heartbeat.
I want to write.
I want to pour streams of words
Into this river of runes
That flows into the grand canyon
Of unbounded inepitude
To feed the endless ocean of sheeted narratives.
I want to write
Unfettered
By chores
Choices
Children
Chasms.
To sit beside that window
Overlooking the landscape of pain
And still finding words of beauty
And fine tune shades of grey
And amid the delicious flavours of colours
I want to be able to
Pull out that single strand
of unmeasured finiteness
That happens to be the exact point
In the millions of micro points
That reflects how I feel
And mirrors how you do, too.
I want to write.
Stories
Poetry
Blood from my eyes.
