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Dance of the wounded
Tonight is this year's first fog in the city .It's smell approaches me through the crevices on bottom of window frames .
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Our days of memories forbid me to sleep . My eyelids heave with the excitement at which my thoughts want to celebrate your immortality within me .My eyelashes are too heavy with tears to be lifted up .
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I am reminded of the time when I was so scared of the water stretches and their depth until I looked deep in your eyes that flooded , held a hundred tides of reasons , an accumulation of all the why whirling on a monotonous note .
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I am reminded of the lesson that pain isn't abstract , it heaves in the familiar undiscovered parts of my body when I breathe in your absence.
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I close my eyes tonight and when I take the name of universe and god, I see the vision of your face . As I isolate from the worldly tantrums and try sinking deep in my conscience, I am draped with the feelings you offered me in all ways .

Divya

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