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Tuesday, July 26, 2005

author : Mani Rao


Arranged again in parallel lines, my bare feet face the door, welcoming the railroad of time space.

But death, is not interested when I am.

I wake up like a dancer into a rehearsed, familiar position. The boatman has vanished leaving the oars and I am inflating unstoppably into my hollows - shoes, clothes, pen,

Filed under : EDITION  -

ARCHIVES of July , 2005