Sunday, August 14, 2011


These feet are not meant
For all streets or roads
They must know the circuitous route
To places, go round houses
Learn to step off
Give right of way
When the high-born pass
Not step into temples
Of gods believed
To be without likes and dislikes
Beginning and end
But discriminating
Between head and feet
What holy water will wash away
The dirt of the heart?
What colour is the blue blood?

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