The belated summer's sun,
weak shadows on a brick wall.
Lauryn lyrical on the floating
screen of the machine that maintains me.
The candles at the window are ashamed
of their stripped beauty, forgetting how
they colored the night for us.
Grab me, bed, let your cool silk sedate me.
Only one thing on my mind—
free me from the family of food.
(from the journals of Shakti Bhatt)