Celebration and Yearning
Standing alone in the room,
She looks at the neatly folded kasavu .
Thin, silken, gold threads
Weave their way through the fabric.
She slowly, affectionately,
Wraps the cotton cloth
Of summer-ease
Around her body,
Heightening her slender frame.
Concentratedly, mathematically,
She folds the pleats
Of a single length of cloth,
And tucks it in.
She then drapes the pallu
Over her shoulder.
Softly, the comb caresses
Her black tresses,
Neatly parting it
In two equal streams
Of scented black.
And the music twinkles
With the bangles
That she lovingly dons.
The anklets sing
To the tune of celebration.
The large gold jimiki
Pierces her ear.
And finally, the fragrance
Of mallippoo
Is the powerful scent
Of white against black.
Against the white of her eyes
Is the darkness of mai .
Against the whole body
Of white and gold,
A splash of blood-red kungumam
Colours her forehead.
Standing in front of God,
She hopes for another
Physical presence.
Standing alone in the room,
She looks at the neatly folded kasavu .
Thin, silken, gold threads
Weave their way through the fabric.
She slowly, affectionately,
Wraps the cotton cloth
Of summer-ease
Around her body,
Heightening her slender frame.
Concentratedly, mathematically,
She folds the pleats
Of a single length of cloth,
And tucks it in.
She then drapes the pallu
Over her shoulder.
Softly, the comb caresses
Her black tresses,
Neatly parting it
In two equal streams
Of scented black.
And the music twinkles
With the bangles
That she lovingly dons.
The anklets sing
To the tune of celebration.
The large gold jimiki
Pierces her ear.
And finally, the fragrance
Of mallippoo
Is the powerful scent
Of white against black.
Against the white of her eyes
Is the darkness of mai .
Against the whole body
Of white and gold,
A splash of blood-red kungumam
Colours her forehead.
Standing in front of God,
She hopes for another
Physical presence.
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