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An Unasked Question

by Sharanya Retnakumar

[box]She has the answer ready but he never asks the question. Poetry is born as the woman speaks out her fears and the truth. Here’s a poem by Sharanya Retnakumar.[/box]

The only question I fear
is the one you might never ask
where I stay alert with my prepared lines
that now like utter misfits will drop from my hands.

I can wake you now,
tell you, get it over with.
But your sleeping form is a silent steady boat,
there will be other nights.

I can tell you now
in between our some other fight,
sort of clumsily wiggle it in
and pretend it’s all the same.
But you forgive me too soon
even before I say my first practised line.

I decide to write you
long running forgiveness seeking lines.
My tears are voluntary and righteous now,
I drape them around exotic sounding words –
I say : stay clear of the clichés.

I didn’t mean for it to happen?
I wrapped another man with my skin
I wasn’t sane then and I was sad
I have moved in rhythm with someone else’s strokes
I am a whore and I have no promises for you.

When will you ask?
It’s been years so many.
When will I stop jumbling your lines,
searching for meanings –
when will I really be alive with you again?

Pic : kassandrapoised – http://www.flickr.com/photos/ranyakarafilly/

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