To the escapist

'escapist'

you're running on an open field,

running from the wind,

running from the sky,

and you touch me as you pass by,

i wonder in my hopeless hopes,

how would you run when on the slopes?

when tired would you need a hand?

would you need warmth in the coldest land?

..........................................................................................

warp of time,
starched and brushed in rice,
under the tamarind trees,
colored in red,
and woven in gold.

she waits to cover a skin scarred,
and beaten with green with red,
or only red the skin will wed,
and the green will be jealous.

why were you late?
why didn't you color in time?
naked threads were safe you thought ?
now red looks better
and you are just an accent

the debt collector came early,
and set sins of the skin free.
skin can now be red and gold,
pure gold without green...