The Waist Land

From here begins my share of the earth,

Her fragrance I can smell.

I can touch her moisturized skin,

Spread over her hair negotiating with

The turbulent wind, at times, touched my cheek.

I feel like embracing the night-bearing

Resemblance to her hair, reassuring me that I am her heir apparent!

I shall build a home around her waist.

Adjacent to it lies my primitive cave, along with the roaring of the tiger, serpentine trees hissing,

Barking tongue of the forest hounding me.

I run to cover all the lands by the fall of the night like the character

of Tolstoy's story.

Am I a victim of my own greed?

Am I so possessive?

Am I the monarch encroaching

someone's sovereign sleep, without realizing that all the victories

are pyrrhic!

I can't encroach the murmuring brook

In her lips.

I can't encroach the sunshine

In her enticing smile.

I can't encroach on the sky

In her forehead!

I can only feel the earth in her body stretched out, rain-soaked.

I embrace the starry naked night,

Sparkling, dazzling resembling with

Millions and millions of glow worms.

And by the time the night falls,

I am in possession of everything and nothing!

She is as elusive as the night,

Trickling through my arms like the wind,

Time and again touching my cheeks!