At the dinner party everyone
Held a glass of champagne or
White wine in their hand.
All in a row, the big guys came up
To shake my hand and greet me.
Some came to hear about my experiences,
How I came out alive
>From the troglodyte’s den.
Some came to get my autograph,
Some to look at me with wide-eyes admiration,
Some to kiss, some to offer flowers.
In the midst of all this
A girl with golden hair came up.
Not extending her hand.
Not wanting to hear my sad stories,
She said she had come
Just to weep with me for awhile.
And I felt that the entire Bramhaputra
Was rising in my eyes, eroding
The embankment of my heart.
I. from the east,
and she, from the west,
had pains that were equally deep.
I was dark, she a rosy white,
But our sorrows were equally blue.
Before we wept we did not have to
Hear about each others experiences.
We knew them too well.