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Latika Mishra Jul 2015
The setting sun
pours in red wine
and every trace of emptiness
in my goblet is filled up.

The ferruginous night
hoots on that ghostly tree,
whose long legs are in the waters
of the large well of desires.

Something gray
walks in slowly underneath
my chair
What was that?

A shiver runs  down
on my spine.


T'was a cat
The grey one
stealthily
entering my room,
to find some warmth.

An interruption!
It spill ed my concentration.
I implore!
And the generous  you...
You continue to pour
your strength into me.
I taste, I  swallow
first a minimal amount of it
till I gain courage to gulp
full mouth of it...

— The End —