Transmogrification

Last night

You kissed my mask

The alcohol

Wrote to you the story of my

Melancholy.

You were bleeding

And-

I had sent the flowers elsewhere.

May be, to the dead children.

The Gods called you for Love

But, you liked to be in the vicinity

Of my Falsehood.

I reckoned your bruises and it was more than mine.

It got difficult to sing elegies when you died.

The season of your smell ended

But-

I had you

And

You had me.

Wrapped in a little casket

The deplorable plight of the child is better now.

He smiles.

He finds you in my poetry.

And the woman next door,

She finds you in my euphorious sketches.

You were unkempt, because,

You chose not the truth.

I have watched people turning into lions

And lizards.

It was my turn now, to suffice you.

So I breathed out-

My falsehood and the smell of my mother.

The shrill cry from next room faded

As it bizzarly saw me

Making my falsity my Truth.