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Jul 2015
Part – I
It plucked every string of my heart.
She/It obliterated me.
She sang.
She sang for me.
In tongues. Which only She & I know.
She sang for me.

Part – II
As per inconsequential request,
We’re migrating to the moon.
Infinitely flying within our small infinite.
Raymond George Dias
Written by
Raymond George Dias  22/M
(22/M)   
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