Surveillance Poem by Riyas Qurana

There is no inhalation here
Can't breathe
Now and then air would come this way
but would at once be chased away
That which we want to say
We eat those words
with hunger proving unbearable.
How we should live is decided by them.
They decide the mode of our Death too.
We have but their hands
We walk with their legs
This stomach alone is ours
In the streets
In the interior rooms of houses
On the walls
Fences
Why even in the air
their eyes are stuck
We are being watched
A kiss given in the bedroom
shocks as if it is happening
In the midst of a huge crowd.
That all this is the figment of imagination
is how these lines ought to be brought to a close