A humming bird flits past a bamboo thicket
Dead monitor lizard lies lazily on a bank
Beyond that bridge, forever, a bridge,
We stand and watch clouds, stars, flowers
Scents, waves, houses that we could have had
One turtle too swims, in those waters unaware
As fiction faces feelings and flees unfettered
Empty spoonfuls of flavors blend yet again
On your windowsil, a coffee with my mother's
Hands, a mugful of your memories now in my hands
I eat my fill from your palm on my face
And hunger for more of what life could never
Give again.
Does a dead monitor lizard float or sink?
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