Miranda: 
talk to your restive soul, 
elementally abstract. 
Home – 
was minimal comfort, 
for the flying birds. 
Clock, 
to explode today 
on your face. 
You were eying 
the bride, 
in turbulent sky. 
Who had 
brought the moon 
at Agave’s feet?
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                        Author:    
     
	satishverma ( Offline) Offline)
- Published: December 3rd, 2015 22:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 16

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