colorful staircase

Market

Market
Selling peas and nuts in lilac pyalas.
A lily-looking face of a woman: the black crescents of eyebrows rising

Crescendo

You don’t want to twist in your fingers fuchsia and bright-blue fabrics,
Rolled a wave upon the wave down the staircase?

Kameezes,
Colorful carpets,
Shawls,
Salwars

A bearded seller is smiling and smoking a dragon
It bites its tale in the glass triangular can

Released through his thin nostrils,
Which
In intricacy of their forms
Resemble his shoes with curved tips,

Shoes sewn with beads

The dragon leaves his lungs.

I’d like to buy something
But what is something

Here I know very well that I will be dead

I will lie awake one night
Just like that
And one night
There will be no one in charge to be me
To be awake for me
Like that

I wish I were expecting death like the awakening
But it will be someone else
Something
Lying awake at night

I am really not very tempted (I assure you, susurrus) that much by treasures they have here

Something

Maybe a wooden box with the Sikh horseman:
He holds his blinking sharp saber in one hand,
And a pale, miraculous rose in another.

[2014]

learning to accept