broken pillars speak out
as winds walk through their flattened arms
a thought hanging down from nowhere

now my time to stretch the hands
to reach up,
as the ruins are falling down

never seen this home
in its entirety;
for me, it's an empty village
deserted a while ago;
a swarm of words that limp around me.

now my time to straighten
my body
to sew it nerve to nerve.

moments and days mumble the same utterance
breaking their neck of nights
days never end:

time lost never found.

a dream strewn after a sleepless darkness
living through its white night.

the making never happens

(Published in www.museindia.org)