After The Act

I pause, stand at the stairway’s acme./ The icons on the walls,/the most peculiar Hindu gods coupling,/their red rimmed eyes/ gaze down at crowds/opaque brown crystal ,/ results in barren dawn caverns./I knew then, I can’t cross /the borders of repose,/ on my back;sticks in bundles, /I bring them over the water/I hear the sonic boom, the wail/alerts from a world of comic book knowledge./The worst resignation ever,/even in days/ when I had to say Yes/to the somebody I wasn’t

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