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Poems
Mar 2016
Atlantis
When I was young,
they took me to a beach
more pristine than the handprints of a god.
I regretted each of my footprints
upon the pearly sand,
my touches seemed to taint
its flesh.
The whispers of the air forbade me
to leap into the steely ocean
and shed my skin-
The waving of the pirateβs trees
kept me grounded.
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311
Pradip Chattopadhyay
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