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by Satish Verma Feb 26, 2023 category : Nature, environment / nature
When Rilke stops whispering, I search the cut flowers of gladioluses. You don't speak at all, blinking your eyes anxiously. There was no spate of quivering lips. The exodus of long breaths had the lethality. Words come and go like, a bunch of bees. My problem was, how to meet my beautiful end. The culture, the wisdom would wait for the angels.