Bitten tongue
Muscles bring joints fixed to angles
Uninhibited neural transmissions
Smell the shoe or those brown little seeds
On black charcoal
Call the Brahmin
Or some one who makes a conversation
With evil spirits
The holy wood is burned to call sanity
She may speak the truth
With the utmost will from her unconscious
Her bulging eyes then need a long sleep
She carries the weight of her bosom
And hides it
Why
She is a woman living with guilt
Why
She tells about future
Her soul too has the right to ascend to divinity
Islamabad
Aug 10,2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem