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Feb 2021
The reverie begins each morning
As I brush my hair I comb through
the memories of you
Every moment is a melancholy feasting
The physical hunger for your bones
Leaves me eating my heart out
Scrapes of time liter my mind
and I sweep them into cobwebs
that hold the infinite number of times
I visit our past
love.
Written by
May Santiago
72
     Eshwara Prasad and ---
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