Distal Pulse

the phone call from the psych: she’s taken it badly. I know, I say.

the climb
for the moon
not this
not this


about to wrap myself in her scarf I stop.

what if I loose my sense of her?


I tell

at sea


the truculence of children. on and off the rain

do they see the sky

Samar Ghose

Distal Pulse

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