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A Sketch

Manprasad Subba

Somewhere inside the chest
A gentle tickling
And the ripples…

In the cave of the chest
Oh!…Oh!!…
Reverberating…
Echoing…

The sun’s feet
Stepping softly
On the tree leaves

Day laughs with end-to-end rows of its silvery teeth—

With eyes half-open
Dusk reclines on the threshold
Of dream and reality
And whispers to me

Nigh quietly caresses my chest and back


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