At the monkey temple rooftop
a garden of a million monkeys
amidst the milling throng of humanity
I held a biscuit in a upturned closed hand
and the monkeys came to me
one had calm in its eye
and with cool and suprising
tenderness,
deftly unfolded my fingers
and ate the biscuit
it was a milk arrowroot
we were both
forever
changed
Markna
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