on islands

the waters of colombo are tainted not with the dirty,
but rather with deep footprints in mud
holding fast the impression that you may walk on,
walk on assured that change will not come.

when with wave after wave
and rain after rain,
nothing washes the sticky heat off your neck,
you turn to shady lagoons of deep mud,
holding fast the impression that you may walk on,

solid if not sinking slightly.

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