I'm done.

Done

With seeing through pages

And print,

Through letters and ink

And book covers.

I'm living

Through daydreams

Of wild deserts

And saris swirling in the wind.

Seeing and feeling

Through thoughts

And empty descriptions-

Places of color and sound,

light and noise,

Of overpopulation and tradition,

of rapid words,

Exchanged in a song like tongue.

I want to wake up

Someplace strange,

With food I've never savored,

With words

I've never felt

My lips form.

A world caught,

Like a fly in a web,

Between history

And modernization-

Where you can stroll past a temple,

And arrive at a mini-mart.

So I live

And I see

Through eyes framed by words

Decorated by ink eyelashes

and paper pupils…

Biding my time,

And shaking piggy banks.

...

I'm crazed by patience,

Agitated by fears

And

Done,

With gray skies

And cows.

I'll exchange trepidation,

For wide eyes

And scrapbooks.