sordid and sacred, longing to be naked,
arms extended to a river whose
depths are not measured in fathoms
but the meat on the outside and
the inside of hands clasped
together above the surface.
with pining hopes and despairs,
the amorphous yearnings of our bodies, minds and spirits
hurdle themselves from the ghats.
unimpacted by the coolness they descend,
dictated by the current and their
will to be still.
to lie prostrate on the bottom.
nestled behind the corpses and the ashe, the tears of their
fathers, sisters, brothers,
daughters mothers... humanity.
cleansed and released from the
burden of repetition.