Saturday, July 31, 2010

On Reading Kafka's Diaries

I grate my hands
Along the pages of your memoir.
I see your vacant eyes
Scorching mine,so that
You could burn them
Before I stared to read.
I see samples of your scrawling hand;
The crests and troughs
Of your doodles form familiar shapes
As my mind acclimatizes itself.
I fathom nothing,
I cannot tell if you're right or wrong.
I only know
That you hold me
To an eternal ransom;
One that is interminably long.

1 comment:

Srinivas said...

Beautiful lines..shud get this book.