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Oct 2017
The aroma of, the aroma of your despair.
You draw back from my trembling hand
I say we were, we were the perfect pair.
Cigarette smoke, make me a ghost not a man.

The way I sob, I sob to silent sound
The speaker above telling me how to grieve.
Bury me. Bury me in those coffee mounds!
Murmur, mumbles, inaudible speech

But I can hear, I can hear all that you say
Your lips curve like a crescent moon
Falling from, falling from night into day.
Curious eyes passing over this darkened room.

I can't, can't dive into another's conversation
Her beauty cracks open. Spills
As all I hear, all I hear is her ululation.
I mourn the death of us; she killed.
Shankar Puri
Written by
Shankar Puri  32/M/Cape Town
(32/M/Cape Town)   
  548
       Jamie, Jamadhi Verse, ester, ---, Jazeera and 1 other
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