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She was costly Bordeaux
  he was recycled biker leather,
her classic affluent beauty
  yearned for motorcycle thrills,
she lifted him up a grade
     he brought her down to street level,
  they fused at steamy rush hours
   under trafficked high ways,
    pursuant to reckless merging
                   reality's intersections accelerated            
   crashing expedited speed limits,
       would never again drive
  mid smoothly paved junctures
             at the standard rate of normal
Amit Shroff Dec 2014
Its just a fantasy the only regret is permanence,
The life of a modern day gypsy, an unknown destination.
I wake up to new faces from past day's bruises,
A long journey into some town, exploring the unknown.
Green sanctum reflecting the temple top,
Woken up by the gong of the ancient metals.
Treated like a royal guest, offered a lot of the harvest,
Walking down the symmetric coconut grooves.
I see vessels carrying newest of the goods,
But here they still stick to their roots.
True its a gods own country, abundant beauty,
I'm lost amidst the hills sipping the Malabar coffee.

— The End —