My Only Regret
It is such a lovely December morning,
It feels good to be alive and breathing.
Standing by the wayside tea shop,
In the warm sun, atop the high kerbstones,
I watch the world go on its own.
Beautiful girls of Kathmandu walk past me,
Without even noticing me—hurriedly moving
To the arms of their sailor princes,
To their laptops, their smartphones,
To beauty parlors, banquets, to their never-ending
Gossipmonger of friends.
The clock-tower is old, still the time is running fast,
Nobody knows this better than I do.
I’ve lived my life as if it has no end—
Being an earnest onlooker each morning.
My only regret is going to be this—
To leave these beauties of Kathmandu
I wish I could kiss them all,
All these girls hurrying to the arms
Of their awaiting lovers, kiss them goodbye
Before I leave this city alone on its own.
I wish I could give them long, lavish kisses,
Feel the taste of their warm, honeyed saliva,
Feel their bellies pressing against mine.
I have long forgotten the art of lighting
The fire of love with my pudgy hands.
This is going to be
My one and only regret.
Poetry by Bibek
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Written on 2018-12-19 at 06:32
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