by Sanchari Sur
Needless to say
You weren’t respectable at first;
A detour to my heart was confused by your
Ever lusting hands that
Peeled off my pride, carelessly
Cushioned in opium words
That fell uninhibited.
If only you knew that your honesty
Was my undoing.
And that my ardour for you was transformed
Into melancholia, only when
You aborted midway.
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