I touch myself.
I kiss you.
You see nothing.
My dreams turn:
barking Pierrots,
copulation mysterioso.
Last night a bird spoke...
Look for the light,
it will come from the north.
...lies,
I long for the ooze,
frogspawn,
a bright ring of algae
round my throat.
-Ophelia, Jeet Thayil, English
posted by Anvita Thapliyal @ 6:16 PM
1 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home