The cold wind tears tears from my stimuli sabotaged eyes.
The motorbike on which I ride roars through Jaipur.
Elephant prints are pounded into my memories.
Jeeps carry colors on the trash splashed asphalt.
I helped her shovel the buffalo shit with my hands.
An old man in a dirty white robe rolls a giant black tire down the highway.
His toes are crusted like rust on a rickshaw.
I walk through the primordial primate temple.
A photograph can never capture the fleeting feeling
Of the heart behind the camera.
Or stares that penetrate the soul.
A dusty haze sprays a veil over my vision.
Stop me from stopping.
My Couch Surfing hosts
Street shave – 50 cents
Monkey Temple (flooded with primates)
Outside Shiv Temple