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Saturday, December 22, 2012

It was a substitute for the vault of a sky
That had risen indefinitely up and up
With two kid brothers playing ball on it.
The prankster sky had earlier annoyed
The grandmother's head in her chores.
They have turned sun and moon in sky.

We now have a tarpaulin over our libidos
Besides running buses of lusts to perform.
Under the tarpaulin, while it is not raining
We have cocoons of married togetherness
That are spinning shiny silks of nine yards
In long musical yarns of Hindi film dance.

But it is raining here in wind and storm.
We have to return tarpaulin to tent maker.
Soon we are naked under sun and moon.

(A 23 year old girl who was gang-raped in a running bus in Delhi is battling for her life in a hospital)

Posted at 03:48 pm by adukuri

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