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by Satish Verma Nov 5, 2023 category : Nature, environment / nature
Read me if you care. I am going to rip off the lid of oven. How many faces you will wear, when it is raining silver and gold? It sounds like wrought bones. I find myself suspended in air, like humming bird, not like drone. It was a mutual suicide of opioid love. It does not belong to me. the divested home of words. The pink wounds on the wall of memory. Not me, not you.