I shall hold on to my piece of the bone,
knuckle bone, they say;
you hold on to yours.
of our undying love.
Twenty years from now,
we shall see if they still match,
still seal the space in between.
If they don’t,
we shall have arthritis
between us, the bone rust
of twenty years.
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Comments about this poem (Symbolon by Jay Kasturi )
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