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Aug 2016
On the foggy window glass,
In the snow that raw,
My finger rubbed past the dew,
To catch a glimpse,
Of fog and benumbed,
Outside of the car window.

My eyes desire a little sunshine,
My skin, a little warmth.
Ears urge for her chirping,
Lips, the touch of hers,
Hands, a stroke in her hairs,
Body, to have a shadow besides hers.

The sun shined shyly over the meadows,
To hide back in clouds,
As if it kissed the snow - a good foggy day.
Conifers stand tall, covered in snow as if a white ghost,
Sailing with the wind, snow shifted -revealing a green arm,
Only to muddle the sleeping fox beneath.

Relishing in my state- haywired,
A smile played on her, if only, for an instant,
to leave me mortified.
My devotion for her- untouched.
Masked, my feelings rattled,
Green eyed- I explode.

Saurabh.
Saurabh Tak
Written by
Saurabh Tak  Paris
(Paris)   
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