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Shristi Goswami

Aren’t we all just under construction

Like the buildings at Kings Cross?

The blue sky is but

Covered in scaffolding

Snatching the beauty of the clouds.

I ask myself


Am I alright? Am I? Am?

Then I see the trees of Russell Square

One moment, nude

And the next, covered till the roots.

Shameless once

Full of shame, the next.

I ask myself again

Am I alright? Am I? Am?