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angry

my grandmother used to spot in us
a hereditary anger
the chest learning to well up
blood learning to leap
and breath learning to crawl
foreheads burning with heat
of little children

the attempt of anger to become disgusting
raging energy that will occupy

every living stream.

nobody wants to hold an angry person
rage drunk, getting bigger and bigger

until other people are invisible like ants
and you can dissolve them in your hot blood
and things around you break and shatter

at this point she would hold. a violent hand shaking her away

Ya I remember my grandmother used to spot it in us as children already

And hold our hand "until you get over your rage I will not let go of your hand"

 hold VERY TIGHTLY "I will not leave your hand until you learn how you should calm down"

i would fail despite that gesture

 to understand what was happening and i could not receive love at that time because i have so much anger

But the act she is doing is still that of HOLDING

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लाल वस्तू

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Numbers

I know now the minute at which the sun sets and rises When I'm nervous I know the speed at which my heart runs when it floods I know the amount of water that overflowed in cusecs. The number of animals that are alive within some species The degrees by which the earth is heating and the exact amount of diminished magnetism. I have recorded the day and the time the GPS co-ordinates of when we grew apart the number of letters in goodbye as a faithful accountant of the heart I have no numbers on my loneliness the degree by which expression dumbed down and smiling and frowning became more similar like interpolated homotopic lines coefficients of a grey space of feelings.