Apprehensions sink in the dark cloudy layers
like the kohl of my waterline, the kohl of my heart
I am a clown or that saint of the temple, for people misjudge me
With deposition of tears, I shall settle too
in the obnoxious satin walls of turbulent words
Something swells up on my neck, triangles and diversion.
The wax of candles is stuck to my mind,
dripping anger or illusion
the folds of my bedsheet recall my tear
perfectly imbued with the corrosive words, the abuses.
I decay again.