By now, I should know how to do it. Begin. I look at the sheets of paper in front of me, blank except for: 'Bent over the lush grass', on one. 'Does she see the shadow pass?' on another. The sheet right on top is a pale, menacing yellow. It has blue lines running across it, straight and rigid.
Hariharan, Ghita, Untitled Poem, Kunapipi, 15(2), 1993.