On a searing, parched summer afternoon,
Sheltered in my home,lazying around i
lie stretched on the turf covered with
a walnut wooden layer..
Bright, bloodshot sun rays sieve through
the roman blinds,the air conditioner
bellows gusts of cool air,nostalgia is
so there..
Your swathed memories, omnipresent,
assertive, reluctant to leave..
Maybe once i am asleep;this wave of
thoughts would cede..
Closing my eyes tight, usurping the
bed sheet to hide, i try try try..
Sleep seems perfidious, your thoughts
just do not disappear, tears roll on,
and i cry cry cry.
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