*
between salted
scarce trickles of tears
.
darkened by heavy clouds
of comparison with others
.
the weight of lead
the toxicity of the same
.
I lose my way on the starred
map in the silvery night
.
my trip on earth slowed down
heavy luggage of spoiled health
.
may be a curse may be hummus
at times all I can do is smell it
.
or be bent under others’ gazes
my hands rest secure and my eyes
.
see ahead they are hope filled
certain of what has to come
.
I shall keep not my identification
with conditional or temporal
.
will have to break that mirror
obscuring the eternal light
.
my eyes need not to be on
watches, calendars or bills
.
numbers fog up my path
most people do too
.
are my thoughts aimed
at precise definitions
.
I need to remove
not my life
.
this I conclude
while closing
my eyes
.
.