You know, I have started losing poems!
I know now what poems really are -
not the ones I have penned down
or recorded in my consciousness, but
the flickers of joy melting in my body,
and splinters of pain pricking my mind.
They faded without a trace -
too feeble to last
like a glass of champagne, now quiet
having lived through bubbling aeration,
waits to quench a wandering thirst.