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Everyone bowing
To the righteous rule
Of the Ohm goddess,
Who pierces through
Their ears
With her siren song.

There will be blood
But there will be none
From yogis,
The smell
Of imported incense
Already dried away
Their veins.

Is their heroic pastime
Of yonder years.
Yet revolt is in the air.

For they can kill
With their blank stare
And soft fingers
And watery teeth.
Yet they should not
Oppose their tears.
Of wonderful fears.
Fears of salty unrest.

Unrest in my heart,
I want to follow them
Down their path
Of salty obedience.
Yet I resist.
All I want
is to fly away,
Melt into the horizon.
I close my eyes,
The imaginary wave
Cradles me
Into sleep.

Revolt is in the air.
They should not
Oppose their fears.
Of wonderful tears.
Tears of salty unrest.

The Author

Woman. Floaty. Attached. Dettached. Sudden. Note-scribbler. Citizen of the world. Travelling to the moon and back.

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