The black trouseau with its silvery sparkles
Inspires me to roll on.
But ho, i can't touch it.
A luminous silver coin charms me
Happily to use it.
But ho, i can't touch it.
A painted yellow plume with smudgy rouge
Ashed around desires me.
But ho, i can't touch it.
Dip dip, says a saphire stream
For me to feel replenished.
But ho, i can't touch it.
A glassy white spread burns me to blister.
I want to remove it.
But ho, i can't touch it.
Now this rain seeks to connect me
With those sky-clad scenarios.
But ho, they've bid me bye, bye.
Ho ho, untouchable welkin ever so, ever so.
Indira Renganathan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-untouchable/
