a lone
like a feild of plastic half a kilometre thick around me
or so it seems sometimes.
It takes as long as thunder takes after the strike of lightening
for me to hear what your lips move to say.
a world in bombay moves faster than I can think in bangalore.
things change while I blink, eat my breakfast and do my laundry,
and my awareness lifts above me and looks down on myself
thinking nothing of great significance.
squashed in a bed with 4 others
packed like sardines in a tin.
with forced touch and warmth of bodies
purposefully asleep.
I saw from the ceiling
myself alone with a wish to be able to
hear.
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Nice...
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