tender lips
that had forgotten, momentarily,
the taste of mother’s milk and
couldn’t tell the silence of the womb
from the darkness of sins
knelt, panting,
to sooth with their tender warmth
the spineless erection of an old man.

to believe that
the sweat, stink and grime
were not its own
the tender body washed all day
the hollows of its mind
in the bathroom.

eyes
that struggled to forget
in the privacy of night
the desires of day
were wetting the pillows
with tears of unripe dreams.

Translation credit: Aniruddhan Vasudevan and Raghavan