a stuttering silence,
and some doubtful words.
a voice,
congruent with the wind’s whisper.
a protruding me,
from my own chest,
A crossroad
of confusion.
a succumbed seduction
of a faraway familiarity.
and a dislocated fluttering thought,
floating in the night’s darkness.
Some snowflakes,
a cold indifference.
a gift of an unimagined tear,
in this festival of pathos.
Even I lie,
in there….somewhere.
In this wilderness,
a mere camouflage.
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