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Apr 2012
I can hear the rain; I can’t see it much though.
First, gently in the background, then like a storm.

Uprooting trees, taming fast bikers,
Washing away the tears, taking with it-
Everything, everyone, every time.

I smell the moist earth.
It smells of love, it smells of you.

A forgotten feeling, of fond memories,
Holding hands in the rain and random walks,
Of light, romantic, musical moments.

Wrapped in your arms, in the dim yellow light,
Like an old photograph coming to life.

I pine; I surrender to the longing,
I urge you to pull me close again, tonight…
Written by
Barkha Sharda
675
   Amy Kereky
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