Watery promises

Lest thirst should seek water
We give much to future eyes.

Water will flow in mud dams
The upstream flows drowned

By speech,on a long – routed
Road fleshed with  rain mud

That smells like new monsoon
Coming from southwest hills.

We wear our palms on board
And lotuses smell fresh mud.

This monsoon is treacherous
On cottons in a cracked land.

Minds go cracked like a land
And bodies disappear in fans.

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