~Pritha
The sky breaks
In a thousand tears
Over the earth, unfeeling,
A cluster of stones.
In a shadowy corner
Of my room,
Words lie
heavy,
Moist with
dew,
Too precious
to be told;
Too dear to
be concealed.
Hours pass
by
In
unbreakable rhythm;
Clouds well
up
In the
darkening west,
Memories cut
deeper than knives.
