He sniffles, she frowns
she blows nose at the table
I frown
He sells same curry
she sells biryani dry with pride
which will you choose?
The voice is their own
I drown in their feeling
but flinch at fake voices of dub
Winterland of roasted goose
the blanket of chinese films and hot soup
is warm
No need to choose
defining written words or watching
words acted out. I embrace both.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Having fun with Haiku
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