Theme: Thoughts


by Nandita Samanta
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In the meadow of separation, dreams bloom
like tulips in the eyes of The Buddha, so often the artists paint!
At every stroke of an hour a choked hum remains
in all the peace and happiness projected in a living space. 
An unknown wind catches me off guard 
at a time when thoughts build bridges
between my being, nonbeing and a halogen-lit street that stares at my bedroom window,
with a dense fluttering imprisoned in surmise. 
Each night, sleeplessness comes with a crimson embrace
the shapeless phantoms bleed in the mind, 
breeding a nostalgia of weightless smell,
an amalgamation of many evanesced alfresco, sleeping in the thoughts amiss. 


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