in all your garments
I’ve touched and been touched
intoxicated and blinded
swept off highway and the guru paara
swept into nondescript huts
into bus halts
pushed against tree trunk
made to tremble
with cold and wonderment
and yet
I have never seen you
in greater finery
as in the garments of anticipation
where rain is a promise
tagged on tree, leaf, wind, cloud and bird song,
as in the garments of going-away
touched with waterless perfume
of dust and re-greening.
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