A painted hull
On a weathered rock
Memories
Prayful lips
Little imprints on the bottom
And fading paint
Only
Till the mites are no more
Or the hullThere is no better wine than the one that is forbidden to the soul. Here, I taste it through my words, sometimes conforming to the norms, and sometimes breaking it.
Illustration: ©nishasanu There’s one thing we worry too much about- Doing it right! And there one thing we fool ourselves abou...
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