Coffee-seed toned,
Colgate smile,
a flower hooked to neatly,
braided dark hair,
nose, ear rings,
Rani, a Tamil, could walk
into a Rajni film,
strides the morning dark
on Link Road,
a bulging, patched jute sack
on her back,
nibbling trash with an iron hook
for cash.
By 10 a.m.
Rani and friends two,
squat on Yogi Nagar Road,
with sacks full,
sipping a cup of tea, full;
spilling Tamil loud.
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