Meditation in Kathmandu
Meditation in Kathmandu poetry stories
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kelseybanerjee
kelseybanerjee Poetry. Flash Fiction.
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
From wood to wood
teak faces painted red
I wash your feet
with salt from heaven’s rim.

Meditation in Kathmandu

From wood to wood

teak faces painted red

I wash your feet

with salt from heaven's rim.

I observe the eye of god

from our window I witness

the carving of sorrow

it sprouts from Shiva's

black hair, the Ganga

seeps from it like a serpent.

we go to the temple

complaints like cigarettes

in the stub box

smoke suffocates our hearts

so that we can offer

god only dead things.

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