Pretension Poem by O Sudhir Janardhanan

How often is it
easy to hide pain
before it reveals itself
in words that
do not mean much.
She makes me
tell her a lie
every time she asks,
What am I thinking?

The bed creaks
with efforts to hide
attempts to move away.
She lies in wait, black widow,
at the other end
of the bed to
intrude – me into
her and she
into my thoughts.

Outside, the moving lights
snake in to move
out through
the panes, garishly.
Reflecting
the crimson tide lit by
burning, dim, red bulb.
The bed a bleeding
blob of torn hearts

Some mysterious
stirring
A room filled
with longing, feelings.
On this sultry
summer night
sitting on a bed’s edge
I go in search
of my true self.