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Jun 2020
oil splattered
underfoot
dripping from the diya,
leaking slowly
cotton wick burns black
smoke wisp
bending
paints the ceiling
like kajal  
around your eyes.
my palms trace the wooden
alter,
a splinter punctures my thumb.
Kelsey Banerjee
Written by
Kelsey Banerjee  27/F
(27/F)   
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