Standing up ,straight,an attempt to fake an aura of freshness,or is my brain out of function ?The dust has clotted against drops of sweat.I feel like an invertebrate.Or am I?A whole column of high design used to keep me standing ,now i feel like a robe falling off a hanger.
I lift my arms to eclipse the sun .The heat is baking my brown skin.
About Me
- roshan menon
- I travelled the length of the mighty ghats, I talked to the winds, I rested on the rarer pastures, I washed my face in the chilly waters time and again, and I asked the first kid I saw, my name. He looked at me mysteriously, while I watched my reflection in his eyes. He told me that I have wings, and they have a span.
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