Penned By B D Narayankar
Whenever I pull the sheet
of the night over me,
the sleep sits in my
eyes wide open
and begins painting
an image of yours
with the night's ink
Whenever people
see our hands,
they say
these are nothing
but mere lines
But I have seen
these lines meeting
each other;
wedded to each other
with no doubts invited
Whenever I am alone,
without you
I gaze at the sky,
I find this old sky,
giving something to everyone
I ask all but few drops -
but, however hard I wring
my eyes
not even a single
teardrop falls
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