WANTING
I ran away with nothing, hardly looking
back : my past shoulders bore many a moon,
half, full and everything in between, but none
of them had a voice. I sought you out in
bazaars and souks, everywhere turning to look.
Garments strewn over racks, spices and
herbs, powdered and bottled, the great
smells of all the world. In the building on
the cliff, the woman ringing finger bells
and finger cymbals, seemingly oblivious to
anything around her. I wished I was there
forever. In the wind, in the small rain,
prayer flags hung from a string.
I ran away with nothing, hardly looking
back : my past shoulders bore many a moon,
half, full and everything in between, but none
of them had a voice. I sought you out in
bazaars and souks, everywhere turning to look.
Garments strewn over racks, spices and
herbs, powdered and bottled, the great
smells of all the world. In the building on
the cliff, the woman ringing finger bells
and finger cymbals, seemingly oblivious to
anything around her. I wished I was there
forever. In the wind, in the small rain,
prayer flags hung from a string.
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