MY PAST AND I
- Parijat
Like a tall bamboo pole
dissevered by a sharp
winter's wind at dusk
I'm off to kiss the past.
In the cracked, crumbling
sun-scorched land
there's an intimacy
between us
I won't need present or future
to know my past-
broken, split open
and my past will know
me in the emptiness of a bamboo pole.
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