–by Amanita Sen
–Reading Time – 1 min Approx
The buoys lay on the,
Body of the river,
Equidistant, like the
Vertebrae-bones and
The beautiful bird sat on
Each of those as would
Your playful finger ponders.
Meditatively on the tautness
Of the mounds, circling them
Till they unfailingly awaken
To the whispering touch
And in the middle of an
Explosive kiss, that makes
Up for years of separation,
You smilingly ask, “Can the
Bird please keep on playing
On the buoys?”
–by Amanita Sen
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Beautiful