A Poet's Hypocritical Truth

Too well you know you’re seen but not seen through,
Lying languid there in the easy dark,
Hiding in or from a hiatus?
Curled toes slopping, smoothening cement,
Wording ringlets of soundless satisfyingly senseless smoke so savoured
To fog up the empty cool air of the minds of those fools
Lying there in the mothed dark, waiting.

Now as these words appear I hear you laughing
Metal-lipped, stealing my smug snug warmth,
As I slip on my unhardened cement
Falling into blinking daylight.

-Amrita Mishra