- Tilok Adnan
He's waiting for the BRTC to move;
the big, red machine stares -
"What do you want me to do?
Men, women, and children
are in a rush to feed me,
they've no clue it slows me down."
"Be fed, my friend,
my big, red heart -
not in comparison to you -
needs feeding, too.
Your role in the city is quite like mine,
an empty vehicle whose engine
pumps to reach the people that need us.
In my case, a person
and without them I feel
as if I have no function."
"You're too naive.
You're pink and blushed,
I can hear the sound of your blood rush
I can hear it like monsoon rain,
it outweighs the buzz of the avenue.
Lovers like you take me for a ride
to forever and more, until they realize
they've reached the end and
I can't go further.
In this way, love dies."
"Are you saying you're exhausted?"
"Tired."
"Perhaps you're right, but
what do you know of alleys
and homes, and fresh grass
and the path by the lake?"
"I know they exist. That they are places.
Destinations no one can call their own.
Catacombs of memories over years.
Where are you headed?"
"Your route is bound.
You don't see past the city's blocks.
My heart follows intuition,
each day it takes a different path."
"So why make today's journey long?
Move along, go another way."
"Just as you do, my heart knows
that a journey takes time."
The bus leaves.
He walks onward.
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