The moon did not become the sun.
It just fell on the desert
in great sheets, reams
of silver handmade by you.
The night is your cottage industry now,
the day is your brisk emporium.
The world is full of paper.
Write to me.
Published with permission from “The Veiled Suite: Collected Poems”, Penguin India.
This selection is curated by Yamini Krishnan.
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