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Maybe, I’ll let the grass
Grow underneath my feet
Just this while,
Merge it with the earth
Creeping within my being.
They have covered the expanse
With a schizophrenic image
Of revisiting a place
No mind could create.

Except in some rakish fancy,
Infallible in time.

Nights like these
Plagued me with
A thousand incoherent dreams,
Only to digress in bourns;
Dissipate in seas.

I wait for your return, like cloudbursts in June
To sweep the dust
Betwixt each fold on my skin.
Or maybe, you will return to stay;
Raindrops on cobwebs
Creating magic in the mundane.

But I wouldn’t know, anyway.

27 June 2015


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