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They speak of love
as cotton candy
They queue up a serpent
of sweat and hope.
I’ve known love
as that balcony silhouette
in colorless petticoats
watering dead hibiscus
Her vacant eyes
have met mine at times
if only by accident.
Her wrinkles split
by narrow sun beams
stretch in half-smiles
now and again.
I’ve known love
as a gray-haired refraction
no queue can reach
More at http://www.ananyachatterjee.com.
