It rains spices
That make me sneeze
I bathe in wine- the summer heat
The breeze smells- sweet squeezed rinds.
Yet here in a state of indifferent colour
I close my eyes against it.
for u sweat season
I sleep to dream
were i a poet
I'd marry only you
We'd lie together
And in the evening laf at the sun in its hide n seek flight.
Feb 10, 2002
nostalgia of
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