In the middle of the day, we turned to each other
With brazen blue painted
Walls between Us.
You,
With dishevelled hair
Fine white remains of the skull, I never saw before-
Like an ancient Egyptian faience.
Till dusk, the blue
Revealed more of white-
Penetrating the hospital hall
And for a short while
You looked at me-
As if the wide-bulge-eyed Jew,
Who between Holocaust and Freedom
Held close the barbed wires
With intermittent posts.
I stroked and vaguely touched
The skin
Which seemed like the metamorphosed one
As if you walk to read Kafka with Kafka.
We called each other with
Voiceless enjambments-
The ever-revolving gramophone
Where nobody stops or hears.
-30-
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