reachkcs hillstation

i wondered about the breeze on the hill stations
and blessed the sun that you laid under.
wondered what does it feel like;
nearing few fingers in breath's reach of my own.

and i walked the shaking train, shuddering on its rails.
five hours in a wide master shot of a three hour film,
wiping sweat from my brow and knowing the raucous calls of men behind us for being alone.

oh, for yellow fields
oh, for colors of the sky
oh, for the smoke in the air
and the darkening of our skin.

oh, for gold on the wrist
for red vermilion sheen
oh, for the smoke in the air
and the darkening of our skin.

in the months of june
and the months of may,
in december, in january before and after divine. i wondered-

i wondered about the state of the red shirt and the shifting of your shoulders
and i blessed the dimness we were under.
wondered what does it feel like to share water without fear
that my body might collapse under the ever-stern gaze from people of your nation.

and i placed my spirit on the wandering trail
of a thirteen point five s-curve dark split to sun. you are here and i am there
and i know the crass way in which we speak transfer.

oh, for gold on the wrist
for red vermilion sheen
oh, for the deep smoke in the air
and the darkening of our skin.

oh, for towering fields
oh, for fire in the sky
oh, for the red in the water
and the darkening of our skin.