I am my legs and I cross over bridges
legs my ferry and I ferry myself
to the towns unknown
Legs talk better
and with legs I forget my parrot talk
Your abode is a novel
that my legs read
before it's written
Legs carry no maps
yet reaches your abode before I reach
The puzzle is inverted now
what follows my tail (tale!) is a sigh
and withered are my books
Every footpath is your tomb
and I bury myself in each one
Leaving an epitaph - that I talk through my legs
I bow down
to touch your feet
that wandered across the towns of fury and pain
I bow down
to touch your feet
that carries a promise of return
I bow down
at your feet that your leg is the boat
I waited for long.
