little gurus (III)

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My monastery is rich
with little gurus. They run
to me and tackle me
with their soft
arms, bellies, squishy
cheeks pressing into
mine.

They run to me-
feet planted on my thighs,
hands on my face- and chant
I love you,
I’m so sorry,
and will you
play with me?

My responses should
sound like Yes,
Yes, and Yes;

and they do.

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