a drizzle soft enough to hide in the night sky hides me

visible only under ripe-lemon-yellow streetlights

the drunkard passed out by the mother mary shrine

wakes up with his feet soggied by the rainsway

when jesus walked on water he must've felt like i do

when i cleave through the stilled traffic telling myself

that i'm not of this loud & blinding world that i belong

somewhere on the throbbing surface of a wet mossrubbed

rock simmering with secrets

                 when i reach the bus stop my bus is waiting for me

home is where you don't want anything

this is home i don't want anything

~ ajay

10/4/2021