Bare book borrowed

Modern Mystic Mother

Braving the cold,

Baring the soul,

Exposing the skin

And hair.

Waiting in queue

To use a computer,

The bag over your shoulder

Covers your back,

But I see every curve

Of your anatomy.

Oblivious to the stares,

The sniggers,

You use inker in

The universal knowledge exchange.

Wearing nothing,

Wanting something,

Is it more than

A missing piece of clothing?

Security arrives

To isolate you:

The disturbance.

Head in your hands,

Eyes to the sky,

Are you searching for answers?

Searching for guidance?




Raw place, wrong time.

K. 2011

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