The Alien by Kushal Poddar

I am not a silent poet

While you close your door 

and open your window 

to keep an eye on me I shape-shift 

into a pair of pruning scissors 

or a tool to mend your broken outside. 

An outsider, I am. My stars witnessed 

a harsher landscape. 

Evening brings in them here again. 

I stare at them. Those windows of the Infinity. 

Doors are closed black. You sent 

your white spaceship to knock at those. 

I wonder if they will strip search 

the shaft for the bomb 

called humanity.

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