every evening
i carry home Kathmandu in my nostrils
the black of this city
the truth of this city
the sticky dirt that looks and feels like eraser residue
after i’ve wiped out a whole page of homework written in the darkest of pencils
every evening
i carry home Kathmandu in my nostrils
the black of this city
the truth of this city
the sticky dirt that looks and feels like eraser residue
after i’ve wiped out a whole page of homework written in the darkest of pencils
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