SHE

Not turning into the blue petals of the jungle lilly her eyes abandoned a poet she had the least trust in the eyes of the blue lilly she never gazed on the eyes when the deers sped past her She didn’t have a veil on her face nor a wedding thilak on her forehead nor thali, bangles nor a chain around her neck She is neither the bloom of dawn nor verses nor metaphor, nor love nor passion She is hunger She is black She is a vampire She is a ghostly tree of the dark night She is neither a black beetle nor a voluptuous eagle juggling with mountains nor an alluring lake quenching swans She is eluding from peripheral delights Choir singers are rushing to drag her into churches and scriptures But naked, lonely and without anklets she walked away into the dense forests