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Consume

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English Poetry

Golden drops on your lips
A woody after taste;
Burning cigarette
Your heady smell.

Pitter-patter rain
A chain –
Of smoke,
Thoughts,
Feelings.

The wood, the burn
Persudaes me;
Consumes me
To consume you.

2 Comments

  1. Vishvnand says:

    Nice & Impacting
    Intensely consuming

  2. medhini says:

    A lovely poem of a
    different kind altogether, Preeti.

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