broken

when i kissed her

blood started dripping

from my lower lip

it was a gentle touch

of the flesh

but her face

was a broken mirror

reflecting a shaken image

of you

the ink i filled my pen with

refused to touch the paper

no matter how hard

i tried to negotiate the lines

the words smiled at me

sadly

then disintegrated

it was not a question

of writing a letter

that refused to be written

sitting at the edge of the universe

does not bode well

even though at times

we don’t have a choice

especially if we were born

there

we break too many doors

trying to get in

and when one opens

gently

you are not there

because who you were

crashed against the hard surface

i have become

so go ahead

throw your scarf in the river

it will float for some time

then sink

no one will see it after that

but you will know it’s there

and that will be your poem