I do not know how to write of others

I do not know how to write of others
all i write of others turns into me
i do not know other people,
what complexities rule their lives

I do not know me
all i know is how to love
not man,God

I closed my eyes and stood at the very
last line of the crowd
i did not crowd to see you
for what holiness would my sinful eyes derive
from your sight
touched by sin polluted and varnished
my eyes are irreparable

i hoped God that you could see me
i hoped God that at least you would remember me
the muff with hairpins

i closed my eyes and saw you
dancing in the golden grass
with your anklets jingling rhythmically
transfixed i looked at your feet
the clever feet stepping
this way and then the next

over the black laterite rock and the rock flowers
that were wonderfully not crushed by your feet
the edakka and the chengila played
keeping beat with you

You smiled
and your face i did not see
i could feel the warmth of your smile enveloping me in its warmth

Maybe i was scared i wouldn't remember your
face
with my memory that has these holes in it

365+365 days of nothingness
of waiting for
something to happen
was i waiting all along
denying your existence for you to come and touch me

Watching your feet my Lord i was transfixed
Ecstatic
i felt a joy in me
like no other
tear heavy,i did not open my eyelids
till the drums stopped and you kissed
me goodbye