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Sarina
Poems
Jan 2013
a wet pillow
I buried thorns in your bag so
you would know not to leave again
you played them like a harpsichord
breathed the rose-scent in
& watching the blooms, I knew
that you could not disappear at all
instead floated on for a little while
until as rain once more you fall.
Written by
Sarina
forests
(forests)
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Md HUDA
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