Response to Pablo Neruda’s ‘The Potter’

You lied my poet
My body is a refined clay
She lost her ability
To dance with impurities
You can not be any part of me
The hollows in me are filled
With songs and dances
Voices speak in my head
But not one is yours ,I dont respond to touch.
I’m the bird on your roof top
Singing love songs to unseen ghosts
I’m not in the clay
I wont be there with you
Rainbows live in colours of the sky .

Bose