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Sanket Shrestha Oct 2014
Her kind of rain was the kind that drizzled

Her drizzles were like soft rain,
On grey days, they made perfect sense to align with interspersed clouds hanging heavy on blue-less skies
But on days when a storm beckoned it's calling
I lost her,
She drowned
Somewhere
Where it never drizzled
Always rained.

— The End —