right there, that space beneath the bamboos


under the bamboos

the sun squeezes between the green stems

trying to glimpse the two girls beneath

arab, indian, no one can ever tell

sisters of the heart and spirit.

older than they appear with glittering eyes and bursting smiles of laughter

they belong to the earth, as the earth belongs to them.

right there, that space beneath the bamboos

holding hands, their navigable faces inviting the sun in to watch

their dark hair absorbing the warmth

as their eyes reflect it back –

the deepest mirrors you’ve ever seen.

like two Sufis they twirl,

lost in meditation.

she touches her.

she touches her.

together their inhales subsume each other

their exhales a kiss, a whisper to the moment.

the breeze whispers back, as now they are part of the shoots that surround them

the chamber of their hearts

the safe sacred space of secrets.

secluded and integrated where only truth, and thus beauty, can be found.

a place where mouths have no purpose but to be pillows of gentle kisses

and suck the morning dew from the sweet grass.

where eyes communicate and hands speak –

where the heart only listens as the mind slips into slumber and simply dreams.


{Kuntsrule stories are written by our readers! Submit your own story at Kuntsrule Submission.}


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