tomorrow touches the heart.

like a bull-elephant sharpening
tusks on tree-trunk, i take to
poetry- honing words on
the vast landscapes that
house you. adorning words
with imagery, chastising it
with metaphors and similes,
a poem is born and bumbles
across my tongue like a young
temple elephant. a knocked diya
and i succumb to the wildfires of
doubt:

can this truly be love?
----

diya = oil lamp made from clay