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Thursday 19 January 2017

The brush with new air.

like the shield of turtle,
Baggy hook on all over the head,
I walked across the city road side.
The evening breeze was gently blowing,
Teasingly kissing all over my naked skin.

Like those of flickering candle flames,
Low evening sun rays shimmer through the dusted air
And winged creature floating high in air,
I watched them dancing and singing faintly in the rhythm of dying daylight.
Nervously losing myself into the calmest brush of thoughts.

Ripples like on the ponds my blood pumped gently,
With slowest beat comparatively to those of classical music,
Like i could read all the beat in her cycle.
All those injected drunk in my thought,
And i was dancing in the beat of new rhythm.



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