i met the cola girl in a cafe in Kasol
she had a long nose, stooping shoulders, a pair of boots,
and most of all, a hurried voice
every single time she flicked her hair in consternation
or batted her eyelids in boredom
she made me uncomfortable
so I sat in the Isaarli cafe and sipped my chai in quiet
while the chirpier fellows made conversation
tired from the bus ride, i chose to stare at the cola girl
that twitch at the periphery of her left eye
everytime someone said a name
obsessively scratching her nose
the shake of her hands
the sneaking vulnerability in her voice.
strange squinting creature this cola girl.
A heathen poet 