Hairs laid front, back and around the part
as excavated crops in the land of bloody mud.
Also the fear was wetting
as undressed dropped water.
At the soundless walk to the bed,
the knife is seeing me,
It was breathing, I heard.
I bedded like a rolled rope.
Anaesthesia travelled into my middle spine.
the needle could be plucked from mosquito’s mouth!
The cutting had started.
I couldn’t see my own blood.
When I sharpen my sense about the operation,
I feared pain, listened a song played.
It is Ilayaraja, was selling medicine.
In tear of thirst a pained wards
slipped up from my stomach
water … water ….
A face gunned me
“Injection for that only; quiet”
Who cares the elephant legged flowers,
killed already by air?
Note: Ilayaraja is a famous Musician from Tamil Nadu, India.
Ariharasuthan R (10.4.2015)