When at night, its two,
Honey, no one loves you.

How would you wait like that?
Hoping for good moments,
while the beast of night,
Just always wanted to swallow your fingers,
and rub your thighs?
You’re waiting.
Why are you waiting?

I’m sorry but it’s slow death
disguised as small death.

When you’ll wake up the next morning,
you’ll wake up with flashes flashes flashes of last night
Forcing you to jump off the window.
Don’t you tell me all this anxiety was never invited.

When at night, it’s two,
Honey no one would ever love you.

They wear masks and approach you,
looking like that pup you fed last week.
But, don’t grab them in your arms
because growing pups bite the fuck out of you.

Bite the fuck out of you,
as your lover-to-be will get to your vagina.
In some other world,
You would still hope for shaayaris after sex.
But, sex will get over by four.
By four he’ll doze off.

The monster you are trying to run from,
will return the next night,
asking you to, maybe, come online.
He’ll tell you sugar-coated lies.
Sometimes, even that he loves you.

But when the clock will strike at two,
Honey, he’ll be sexting with you.

 

– Pranjal Asha

 

Photograph by Abhinavanand Singh.

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