48. ||CRITICAL||

Of course

There was one time of the night

When your slumber wasn't

All that deep.

You would keep your lotus eyes closed

But your ears would be ever vigilant

Like ferocious watchdogs

To report the unusual

Like my sudden sour laments

And complaints to you

For not bringing me enough jasmines

For my loose, flowing braids.

In those precious few watches of the night

You have known the real Radha,

Krishna

You have feigned sleep

So I don't stop talking

So I don't keep within

Whatever clogs my

Frost-bitten heart.

You would never know I knew.

That's when I loved you the best, Krishna

When I was the more critical one

Even if it was just

Make-believe.