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The Siege
The face
by a stroke of accident
intruding through my retina
(trunslucent with age)
laid a siege
on my entire self.
The outermost fringe
of the innermost plasma
unspared.
Disarmed ruthlessly of all
hoary inhibitions
my arms
(hungry through the aeons)
crush the air
in the spilling of
joyful embrace.
Alas --
the magnificent shapes
melt reluctantly into tormenting curls
rising out of a cualdron of
mingled soup.
Till then I din't know
it's the only face
the very essence of my whole being
craving for
since ages.
****
4th Aug.1990
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