You call her crooked.
You see her twisted half-smile.
Maybe she is not all that straight. Broken and put back together again.
A curly fry that you like to lick all the time.
Well, you are hooked alright.
Lay off the winding road to her zigzag mind then,
Lay your straightness off her twists and turns.
There is a twist at the end of all tales;
Maybe there is a bend that you don't see coming yet
To yours.
Coil up, simple man.
She won't uncoil for you. Or for the world outside
Her twisted mind.
© Sudeshna Sanyal 2013 ~
Loved this. Individuality threatens the mundane. Never change my darling.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sam! You are a kindred soul!
ReplyDelete