Kabir Deb writes

 ADDRESS

Take off your clothes 

You would find nothing of me there 

Take off your skin with a scalpel 

Death would greet you, not me 

Puncture your heart, you would fail 

It's the only option for lovers to find love 

March in a road full of strangers 

Everyone with their need, slithering like a dead leech 

Not able to find the blood it needs to live 

We believe it is a predator, but it's survival 

Goes towards that march, unknowingly 

Stand beside a hungry farmer, with roped neck 

Feel how death is predating his living spirit 

You would find me in those screams, full of character 

Walk aside a homosexual human, kissing his love 

Not to be called a gay, but a revolutionary 

You would find me in those red & black salivas

Find the leaves of a tree, when hair flutters 

Kissing a girl of her height, two soft lips meeting 

Not to be marked as lesbian, but as a mother only

You would find me in the edge of those lips  

Stop beside a growing young corpuscle 

Circled by a group with a handful of musical instruments  

Beat those instruments with full force 

You would find me in the vibration of elimination  

It is not the beauty that nurtures me every time

Rather the shape of my love is like a pottery class 

Virtual body of it figures her way from a conjunction. 

-- Pierre Adrien Dalpayrat

 -- Robert Bicker