by Sonnet Mondal
Sometimes we run into someone
just for once in our lives,
and our bones refuse
to fit inside our skin
the same way.
Plans proceed as waves
and recede as doubts.
A fleeting joy
with gnawing pangs
of apprehension
the stretch between
experience and fear
seems like the time taken by a fish
to reveal and conceal itself
in front of a fish hook.