|| practitioner || My eyes contain your picturesthey are your album within methe voice of love echoes and playslike a new ragatheir songs unwaveringlike a practitioner In my heartbeat your heartbeatsMy breath constantin the practice of love Like the sculptor of KhajurahoI created a living sculpture of loveyou unveiled it, in my eyes
|| one’s own ||
|| one’s own || Like fallen seasonsdreams collapsein corners of eyesin solitary foreign exile In the heat of the sundreams flare uplife creating vision anewlike foreign friends Alone, in a foreign landmemory comesfrightened thoughts, darkness running, even from the moon Alone the whole full-moon-nightlike a deeper meaningof the word: downcast Wishes keep one searching for new leavesFrom which new […]