It's night here, late night
and I wander
sleepless
searching
coves we missed talking
nights in Gwalior
remain the same
the same dry wrath of
a stoney river
sweeping homes
hurts
and hustle of the
unsleeping dread
loving here
was even longer
the last time the fort slept
the sky slept
and the sun slept
loving you then
was far more
than just seeing you
loving was you
incisive of a seasonless day
Gwalior stayed back
loving you are now years
hurtling past
passing railway
stations
on strange dawns
a violence of a night
wind
seems to ask sometimes
tell me what would you say to me?
we missed talking