Bollywood Love
Dreamed 2009/4/12 by Wayan
I live in a Bollywood film. Rule-caged, I sing
and wait. True Love or nothing! Jeez, what's True Love even mean? Moping, I walk the flowered terraces between
Hoping, I gawk at flowered dresses, sweet skin,
edge: by movie law, I'll never be allowed
Then I meet a girl with frizzy hair. She's
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Yet both of us would find a sexy fling
equally rebound-comforting. But if we tear off clothes and play won't the Bollyonic Code drive me away, call her flawed? Is a girl I like enough?
for a Bollywood life, or understand
to my sing-out, dance-troupe,
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Or is it absurd? Maybe it's true
that I'm stuck in an over-romantic view.
Some harsh evidence backs my fear--
since our triangle died last year,
I won't date. Won't even try. Do
I set my love-bar insanely high?
Living inside this film may keep
me sealed off, singing, til I die.
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