Blood gushes out,as expected in a classic Bollywood flick
Sharpened on the stone of a buried past.
The striker strikes
A first-rate wound
The eyes flash, The heart captures
of a sudden
Stagger, Fall, yet Breathing
What kills finally
isn't the stab,
isn't the wound.
But the accompanying friendly gesture,
The benevolent, smiling mask.
Pack up. The reel will capture another act tomorrow.