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Jan 2018
I feel the weight of summer
arching my back
with droplets of its love.

My t-shirts hate summer,
It makes them nauseous.

The night burns in dark,
the stars left us long ago.

It is they who hid the warm winds
in unseen alleys of the sky.

I wait for an answer that never
comes.
I wait for a voice never heard.

The night silently leaves.
Shashank Bhardwaj
Written by
Shashank Bhardwaj  25/M/Delhi
(25/M/Delhi)   
246
   Alasiri T
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