My Bare Shoulder (day 949)

It’s my lingering svasti
Draped over my bare shoulders
As I sweep the streets
Unconsciously rambling

I don’t keep you for myself
I don’t hide you in my arms
You don’t reply to my encroaches
We become inanimate

But, like disaster’s calming exit
Left is my aching soul
Hunger for time, and more time
To reap and to sew; good (su)

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