k

This lost person I loved. Loved for a hundred years. When I find her. Find her in a forest. In a cabin under smoke and clouds shaped like smoke. When I find her and call her name (nothing) and knock (nothing) and build a machine that believes it’s God and the machine calls her name (nothing) and knocks (nothing). When I tear the machine down and she runs from the cabin pointing a gun at my memories and telling me to leave, stranger, leave, man of hammers. When I can’t finish that story. When I get to the gun pointed at my head. When I want it to go off. When everything I say to anyone all day long is bang. That would be today. When I can’t use her name. All day long. Soft as cotton, tender as kiss. Bang.

udaipur, rajasthan

More pictures of those hills that were covered with flowers.