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I came up with the first two lines and the last two lines about two weeks ago. Then, I used them as a prompt and expanded it into a poem. The thing about prompts for poetry is, it doesn't have to be one word. Here is the prompt I came up with: You told him your favorite color, he shrugged and said “okay”. You told me your favorite color and I painted the whole sky with it.........


I met a palm reader once who convinced me to let him tell me my story. His readings weren’t conventional - he came up with stories of past lives by reading the calligraphy on our hands. Mukkadar used to be a storyteller but the people needed some catch to sit for a story, so he chose this unconventional palm-reading......

Something I can touch.

Assume all TRIGGER WARNINGs. I've been trying to write about such issues more often and I hope I do them justice. (secret: you might enjoy the poem more if you google the meaning of some of the names). Here you go: "When my father told me we were the gold pot at the end of the rainbow, I was only ten. He loved rainbows....."