I am sleepless like the Ganges flowing at the ghat below. All night long the traffic of lanterned boats and snuffed out Bodies keep me awake. No dreams or nightmares intrude The slap of water on the steps.

Only fog as it rises off the water to efface The quarter moon, Your face, your voice, your embracing arms, And then my memory of all these memories of you.

When tomorrow comes, come to bury your hands In my ashes, and bury my ashes in those waters.

You may view this photo for an approximation of the mind image