Sunday, February 16, 2014

For her.

She walked down the lane
with sorrow dripping from her hair
that flew against the wind like
a rebel child of broken love and
she grew older with each passing moment
as her face became accumulation of mismatched fabric patches
of uncountable days that she lived in the truest sense
of a life she fathomed to be real and absurd together
and felt it like the desert earth feels each drop of first rain of seasons.

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