Mystical Strains
You are so complex, so twisted beautiful,
I suppose.
You are everything I am not also something
I should not have.
I can hear your voice murmuring in the
monsoons.
I see you sway the coconut trees,
whipping the night sky.
I lift my fuchsia sari and dance in the moist
fresh earth.
Play no music
speak no words.
Your face greets my misty eyes.
You are everything I am not also
something I should not have.
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