Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I write. And maybe someone will read and find a flower among these weeds.
Wednesday, 13 March 2013
untitled [Bangalore 1]
i have not worn flowers
in my hair and your eyes
elude me. the inner
sanctuary is closed.
i hide the lock with
strands of jasmine.
leaving that doorstep
i turn to colour,
then dust
under your feet.
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