with its million legs of water, moves.
on the banks of brahmaputra, the last rhino walks,
like a conspiracy unable to cross.
the other bank full of campfires it can't stamp out
for bridges are mostly a human invention.
r
e
t
a
w
water (w) (t)
what are- (a) (r)
water (e)
w
a
t
e
r
the last chance might be under the bed, or
among papercups between the stains they left
behind of too-much juice.
dragons breathing fire in, processed smoke, around
a cup of tea, with. I can't taste fire once
& then not taste it all the time. I fill a cup of tea
with resolution.
~Ajay
17/12/19
YOU ARE READING
bliss station ~ poetry
Poetry~ where is your bliss station / you have to try to find it ~
