Fluidity
a part of me dies
while another part regenerates
a thought dies
while another thought blooms
as i walk by the sea
for every step i put forward
the one behind gets washed off
there're times i earnestly wish
i were dead:
a willing suspension of
all senses i think i perceive
i'm in constant flux of
breath and no breath
thought and no thought...
tell me, my friend
should i pride that
i know you?
25mar2010
21.43hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Added by Poetry Lover
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