Born at the border
Half of a fair, wheat-skinned goddess
Half of a tall, dark mixture of strength and weakness
I ask myself if my favourite dessert
is called paalkova or barfi
I ask myself if the God I worship
is the 10-headed ivory statue or the book filled with characters I don't understand
Born at the border
Travelling between the north and south
with a heavy heart,
I ask myself:
where is my home?
Amongst the colourful rituals
Amongst the tribal rivalry
I find the equilibrium of my existence
The border is my home.
I am the border.
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 10:35 AM UTC
Born at the border
Half of a fair, wheat-skinned goddess
Half of a tall, dark mixture of strength and weakness
I ask myself if my favourite dessert
is called paalkova or barfi
I ask myself if the God I worship
is the 10-headed ivory statue or the book filled with characters I don't understand
Born at the border
Travelling between the north and south
with a heavy heart,
I ask myself:
where is my home?
Amongst the colourful rituals
Amongst the tribal rivalry
I find the equilibrium of my existence
The border is my home.
I am the border.
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