You wave. The street splits into two
The wrong turn is you
An obsessed nostril sniffs out intentions
Kisses are always political
I want to stop and breathe out the years without you. The wind fleeing on a bird wing leaves me a feather
The left is a body with an unwashed feel to it; It reeks of desire, of faded sheets and fenugreek
Its navel lint, slightly silky
rubs against my privileged indifference
Cross legged my defences squat
juggling mischoices
Free air breathes me into its pockets
The green light waits. It is right but I am not convinced
It is not a leaf-shade-pond-shadow green
Your hand raised in anticipation of being clasped is clean. It is the spotless dream
this careful city honks away
All that is left is not right
Reena R. is from India but lives presently in Sharjah . She is the recipient of the Reuel Prize for Poetry 2018. She has co- edited two anthologies and is a practicing poet.
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