Punjab 60
Ravenous, dust
pocked,
I could pick
scabs
die in the
remains
die
have you not seen
the hands of
my neighbour
hollowed between
the bone
like her eyes?
half the rice
of her cup the missioner
gave her
she brought
to Krishna,
quarter
to me,
the children fought her
and the dogs
for the rest.
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ALYS
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