Seraglio Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR

Dark damp night. Aureola around the hanging picture
The wall where the picture hung stepping forward
.
Wall living! Living picture!
Lips dry athirst.
Alighted from the frame eying cravingly
Raising hands stood akimbo in front of me..
' What are you just crazy? Amorphous? palpable?
Loghra-kusum-racy?
A living woman of flesh and blood;

Enthralled me.
Oh! What sharp-set!

I could not repel her.

Fearfully tried to skulf...
The spinster sorely drew me into her seraglio;
I immerged inrushing into a slough.

Blocked lachrymation wants to touch her...