A Memory

It is always all in our own heads.
But we would never know how it feels.

The poems in my flesh,
it was my currency.

With my lips, hips, and hands,
all on the very edge.

Uncoiling, untangling,
the only impressions of memory
that stay.

-Taru Gupta

Creative Commons License
A Memory by Taru Gupta is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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