This is one of my favourites from the archives. Written after yet another visual on 20th March, 2015.
I don’t know what strand is it here
Don’t feel the familiar sense of loss and foreboding
That I had associated with them before.
Its almost as if
You’re sitting at a distance
While I know you’re around.
You’re watching me, with a curiosity
Which only I have known myself to possess.
Perhaps, I pretend not to know hence?
Its a semi – dark room after all with you
Sitting in the shadows on that winged armchair
Is that glow from the lantern behind you?
You sit with a smile, perhaps?
Holding your chin in your left hand.
Me? Where am I?
Am I being watched or
I am the audience?
Who could tell.