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Nov 2018
The musky night
descends slowly.
Mercury was rising
dressing the twilight.

You start eating your
nails, crossing the darkness.
I will not stop you.

The yellow dust had
settled, after you burned
down the family tree.

The icy bridge was
closed. No guest
would arrive.

The outreaching hands
were empty.
Time to shut the windows.
Moon was not going to knock at the door.
Written by
Satsih Verma
  153
   Yann and Mandalina
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