April 23, 2009

Art Anatomy

I never felt you until
you confessed by the car
that you wept at the strains
of a song.

that your fantasies grew
through the leaves of a novel
which you smuggled
with you into lectures.

that medical terms
were jargon which spliced
into Lawrence, Achebe,
and Roy.

how closely
feeds into art

your theatre
is now where I lie.

(c) Charlene Rajendran 1999

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