the
lovers woo secretly-
oblivious
of the angry sun outside.
like
the pieces of coloured tracing paper
the dried flow- petals,
are
raining upon them incessantly.
but
no new word begins
where
this shade ends.
all of
a sudden,
some
wild foot-strokes penetrate into their hearts
- her
hare-like belly contracts,
- a
wounded pigeon frightens under her breast,
- in
their restrained respiration something ominous is looming.
- their
eyes are aghast with the layers of of unformed tears,
- their
helplessness is embracing each other.
as
a hunter flays the hide of a deer
he
splits apart their hugging
and
roars like a lion :
“you
love the person
whose
shadow we hate ?”
the
scared and innocent couple
is
pulled asunder.
the
white buds and green foliage of jasmine
crept
along with the bougainvalia
are
scratched down the ground violently
together with them
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