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Mar 2022
I will not pick your
cherries. O god, neither you kiss
nor you remove your lips.

Sitting on a rainbow you
send the wolves to catch the rabbits.
Butterflies are happy to fly away.

You will come to rescue me,
when the king cobra raises his head.
But I was ready to sip the venom.
Written by
Satsih Verma
118
   Seren
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