The thirst of intimacy is lingering into hindsight,
what a sight, chilling, to bones I fright.
the shine of opulence etched into psyche,
so shiny, I am psyched.
I am hiked,
ain't liked.
Ain't liked by none,
dear life, you aren't fun.
You are giving money a run,
wished to be monk or even a nun.
A nun how can I be,
gender, don't you see.
Huh. Gender. Your eyes doesn't see.
Takes bravery to be, what you ought to be.
Haven't you see the hermaphrodite deity.
the Ardhnarishwar.
Do you have a gender for that?
I bet you do have a name.
But dear, it ain't your backyard game.
You will ruin this cloth. What a shame.
Hermaphrodite you say.
Well, its your world, your way.
But the light is blinding.
the opulence is binding.
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