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Apr 2018
When the ink kisses the last traces of my words,
So exquisitely penned,
My putrescent heart hammers one final beat
Because the perishable is ethereal

We never do water artificial flowers.

So I smile
And breathe in eternal obscurity.

Like watercolours
I fade away
Swathilris
Written by
Swathilris  15/F/India
(15/F/India)   
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