Inlay marble floors of my pages
collide with the coruscating
barricades of the streets below I
tuck my head further between
the pages of First Light
and hiss and cajole and bang my head
against the afternoon glare but
everyone everywhere wonders why I
lie in my room festering for hours like
stale dumped fish instead of outside.

• Tags: Issue 26, Poetry, Prerna Kalbag