We traced lanes of kama's sugarcane field
Smoke rose like gossip over broken desire
But our charred lips held no spark of fresh fire
We went looking for gods, where idols were sold
Not a leaf stirred in that weather of wet despair
But the valley was full of voices from nowhere
We cried out to love in words held and holed,
In miles of deepening grey-black islands,
But no rains fell to soothe that searing silence
We wept on ruins of stories that were all but healed
Your scarlet wounds lept alive from my perfume
Carried across lifetimes of a deadly gloom
Dear space between wounds, would you touch us
Just once?
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