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Ephemeral

Updated: Jul 12

By Ria Mukherjee


A lover for eleven rushed days,

Like a sudden gale,

Swept everything away.

A cyclone's ire, a butterfly's wings.


Seeing him on the phone screen,

My eyes would glisten,

Though he sat thirty-three hours away,

Our love was hasty, a mere eleven days.

Those days dragged by, endless nights.


A fallen leaf, wilted and crumbled,

No longer clasps to the branch,

Crushed underfoot, unseen, unnoticed,

Once vigorous, now perished and pale.


Once upon a time, it was fresh...


By Ria Mukherjee



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