An address,different...

You had asked me
Where do I stay...

There isn't an address
A known post-office
I dwell the city.
The city streets
In the stories of a thousand
The dim street lights
In the eyes
That can't afford a dream
The beggar,by the road
In Tagore's love songs
The green of the fields
Skin,moist of sweat
The crowded buses,and trains
The phone number,of
A girl,without a name to call
The tides of the Ganges
I live in them,with them
In bits,maybe,entirely.....