Pramod Khilery (India)

Talking comes to me, ….easy
When I talk with
Every-Thing around me.

Talking peeps into my head, to see
What is handcuffed
And what is free.

Talking clothes me into a stupor
And becomes redundant
The trenchant question, who I am for?

Talking lends me a voice
And I put burning sentences
On to a piece of carrion ice.

Talking and I
After having measured every corner
Return back to bid bye

Did Talking feel the heat of fire?
Who it was with?
Dumb lips, deaf ears or an intense desire.