She Poem by Sasanka Sekhar Panda

In the cold winter night's end
the darkness in the pavement corner
moved slightly
the dews on the grass wet the air.

In the thin light
I saw,
as if innumerable unknown insects
and pain crawling in the dark abyss,
painted cheeks-concealing
and whispers.

Suddenly a flood of light
from the policeman's torch
lighted the corner,
and I saw
the sign of endless sufferings
in the commercialized face
and the smiling eyes of that woman
with cold sex,
and pale face with dark wrinkles.