roadside

blue bandi
lime juice man
sits empty, ablaze

contemplating
putting up
a bisleri water sign

next to him
brown backed boy
too hot
to wear skin

holds glasses
to deliver to those
wanting steaming hot chai

on the hottest
of hottest summer days.

play

poke harder
and I shall
dig deeper

but you could
keep trying.

dance

look, how you dance
in a barefooted trance
tripping, spilling

swaying,
guitars going mad,
lightning rhythm

swirl, twirl
light as air
hand in his, and his

foot tapping
head nodding, bobbing
up and down

stepping in
to the groove, shine
red cheeked laughter

tense

they met
over and over again
desperately trying
to feel
the way they used to

they knew
it wasn't working
who goes first?

couple

on the terrace
they sit quietly
sharing a joint

black hands
holding hers
talking softly

tripping
trailing off
into a constellation

breaking into
a tune
now and then

unknown to everyone.
when you're young
there's no fear.

step

let it stay
this way
wait,
this is just right

let not
the anonymity
melt into familiarity
too quickly

secret

I'd rather
not talk
I'm holding it
so carefully

what if I spill?
then it will
no longer
belong to me

disquiet

late night darkness
post-dinner
empty, still

i can hear
drunken murmurs
from down the street

i can hear
the neighbour's
phone ring

i can hear
the drip in the
bathroom, steady

as constant
as the rhythmic whir
of the fan

i can hear
the trees, restless
longing for movement

i can hear
my heart beat
in my head

i drown myself
loudly
in the music