INCOMPLETE MASTERPIECE

You are my most precious incomplete masterpiece

The painting I couldn’t perfect

The poem that contradicted itself in creation

The lost translation

The half-way lost logic of a scientific invention

The delicate flower I crushed in desperation

I would miss u when my cups smell of ginger

When on evenings I see surreal shadows of passersby on the walls

You are the promise I couldn’t keep

I would miss you when songs smell of a glorious past

When pigeons and sparrows wait at my windowsill for grains

When even the happiest gatherings lack luster for just one presence

You are a truth I couldn’t handle.

                                       --by Santhosh Kumar Kana

                                                  (feb.13^th 2013)