Anything but – Bombay, December 2003

Tell me

What is it to be

Anything but the

Breath and blood

Of your stream?

 

What is it to be

Anything other than

The curve of your lip, or

The salt of tears,

Tearing at the wound of my mouth,

Stung.

 

Tell me

What is it to be

Anything but you?

Anything but me?

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