stretched the arms wide on the sides
lifted above the face towards the skies
lids locked,mouth shut, breathing on slowly, slowly....
mind running through the black and white of the life script,
a hurt, a jerk in the spinal cord...and a streak reminder of the pain engulfed.
the mountains, the rivers, the landscapes, the mud ways, the fields, the flowers, the birds and that un-shake-able guard standing there to keep a watch...........everything screen-played..in a fast forward
the pain overruled by the flow of salty drops from the locked lids towards the shut mouth and down to the back bended neck-aching less for staying curved all this while, but more for the sight of the Guard which eyes saw during the backward trip of the mind into the bygones which are though not yet bygones...
the resurrection from being twirled to standing straight seemed vague and dramatic because only the physical stature stood back, but the sensibilities and the apprehensions were well within the criterion of living and standing alone without any physical presence of my useless bundle of skeletons........the withered set of flesh and bones....
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