you
                          bloom sacred
                          like prashad
                          between my palms

            Waheguru
            Waheguru
            Waheguru

                              teach me the petals of the wilting
                              rose, teach me falling back
                              to the earth, teach me
                              the limbs of a banyan tree

leave my hands stained with butter
after the sweetness is gone
may I go back for more?

                              Mother
                              always
                              said
                              I could.

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