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By Shreya chaudhary

Blue hazy dew drops misty morning

Dead leaves on cloudy path

Down the slope of rocky fences

Walk a lady with a child in basket

“I love my breathe and my senses”

“I love my fresh cup of tea”

“I love my tinted red saree”

“I brought a sweet golden pagoda”

“I walk with a talk”

Long there standing seller of items

A book shop, a vegetable cart and few others

Mincing and uttering word to red saree lady

A barren head partition

A void sleek long neck

An empty hand holding stroll of basket

A name without a fore path leader

A sense so shame to town

Utter slow “You young mountain top resider”

Town has moral, young, purity filled girls

Girls with boundless love

Girls with boundless sacrificial obligations

Your red is filthy with unnamed blood

Your flesh is filthy with self- love

Your little tingling feet walks boundlessly

Your path has no tread

Then why walk “I love my breathe”

Calm mind composed head

Walked straight but no turn round

A composed hymn inside her heart

“You are my love”

“You are my sunshine”

“You are my tea and my bread butter”

“You smile and I bake cakes”

Cakes as sweet as your smile

Cake as flawless as your soul

“I may not be holding you”

“I may not be earning for you”

“I may not be visible with you”

“I may not be waiting for you”

Yet intact is my promise of marriage

I will protect you

I will turn thorns to rose

I will turn burned to cook

I will turn tears to smile

I will turn moon to sun

I will turn suicidal ways to life

I will turn sacrificial to selfless love

Town sellers cursing words

Laid her leafy path to edgy pebbles

Blood ushering sole and feet

Yet so calm and happy

Feet of her and soul of him

Walked down that path

Blood of him on her skin

Now my soul walks with you everyday

Now my breathe mixes with you everyday

Poor is that Richie rich town

A Town of young girls father

Girls unknown to themselves

Girls unknown to self-love

Now my soul pity on you “Town”

Young girls bow down head girls

Unknown to self- love

Unknown to self- happiness

Walk down around a ring of fire.

By Shreya chaudhary

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