We make our houses in  holes in the air
So our kids are safe from wind and rain
And we are not poorer by a large amount.
Actually we make them for kids not born.

We had come here as soft young brides
In silks and fragrances, in jewels of gold
In sandalwood oil and  jasmines flowing.

We had done our computers ,on keyboards
Where we had typed our dreams in silk.
We have often waited outside on the bench
In institutes where dreams are hard wired.

Here , as our house is ready we enter it
In mists of confusion, in  semantics of loss
In broken word pictures , our mirror images 
Born in our mind, on blue screens of death.

As the music flows we find ourselves floating
To the edge of the world, away from holes.

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