i.
(rising action)
this day i met stupor
we slept on the same bed…
the goblin in demonic goggles
stood and read the book of doom
he was the priest
and here was hell…
‘i declare you husband and husband
to love and cherish for better or worse’
priests are not angels
a barrel of laughs whisked the errancy
the bride i kissed
was a dressed groom; a man without a womb
forever worse in a never land
i felt like a pit of feces
ii.
(climax)
what love..what evil?
what evil could be love…!
yes! this was the pit of hell
and i must escape…
i wined on plates
and dined on bottles
i danced with my head
and talked with my legs
the ball dancers were men
in the arms of their wedded men…
stormy whispers thundered-tossed my heart
i struggled in the clutch of a honeymoon…
iii.
(anti-climax)
the bed smelled a cologne of petals
it was my honey sun…
i thawed in conflicts of thoughts
my flesh and this horny moon
a big portion of a disguised darkness
wrapped in a beautiful parcel…
a teary laughter hanged in my muteness
for a quick death, i supplicated
angry fingers gripped my helpless pants…
my eyes fell on the calendar
‘today is december 32nd’
never here, never happened…!
