If I could comfort

 by sending a happy thought

 to dangle upon your window sill,

  swinging itself up and down like a monkey

  in the hope that you could find in it

  a glimpse of something well loved,

  lost to the hurrying feet of time


  for a desire

  to see a fleeting smile,

  a slight decrease in the number of furrows

  seeps into me …


  as you tear yourself apart

  to pull out the shining stars

  that gnaw and bite your insides  

  and pour your love all over the table

  to become a specimen

  for   everyone’s delight


 They see beauty in the raw sewage

  and applaud all the broken bits.

©Reena Prasad 20th October 2012

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