I find some of my blood
outside my body
again.
The clouds wear light now.
The moss on the wall
is undark.
One should know where
to finish a painting.
I say to the basin.
A razor thin light clears the hedge.
The Wipe
“You look a little soiled.”
I tell myself, wipe the mirror.
When the glass looks bright
a room appears behind my
reflection. I want to wipe it all,
turn off the bulb.
In darkness I can see
only my breathing.
.
Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor
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