Around Thummulla
passing the watarawuma
is a line composed and ribboned
with Mara
on either sides.
And a little ahead
towards Rajakeeya Mawatha
is a green dark silk-
a sunless forest
against the main road architectonics
that pours over you.
And wanting more
its breath of wind and caress
each time the feet drifts
from a Mara gaha
to another,
the repeated pleasures
of these heavenly things.
It's a place I know
that shelters and will shelter,
a pacifier and pacifies.
Its a place of desires,
encounter and love-note.
Its a place that is
crepuscular
when everything else is bright.
And it is the only place
that chills
meanwhile everything else burns
to the steaming skies
on the Thummulla road
that I can think of.
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