Poetry Poem by Lenin Meitei Thingujam

Are you supposed to tell a story?
Or are you a mane of words in a messy head?
Are you an onion high on ethos?
Or are you just skin-deep like a beauty queen?
Do you have structure and a spine?
Or are you a formless hydra with horns?
Are you a moan, a scream or a whisper?
Or are you an inexplicable gurgle?

People know you more than your creator,
They pour and dip you in their colors.
You touch them in unhygienic places,
And make a believer out of them.
Like Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
You dance on moonless nights.
You hide your face behind a veil,
But to me you are freedom.