I have seen you Kamala, I do not know where.
Maybe in those women,
Who cover their face while they walk causally out of the durga in O.TC road.
I have seen you in some glass cage,
On the cover of a book.
I have seen you in the eyes of a girl who pinched my bare chest.
I have seen you in lost in Neelambari Raga.
I have seen you in women who wear glass bangles.
Red and brown. Black my favorite.
In the craving for love I have seen you. I have touched you.
In Kanyakumari I have seen you. Marveling the horizon.
Just like me, wondering about dreams of the flowers that bloom by dawn.
I have seen you Kamala in a language. The one in which you dreamed.
I was there when the sparrow died in your room.
I have seen you in the warmth of a thigh.
Profound were those moments.
I have preserved them in them in a history house.
Inside a ceramic pot.