By Roshan Tara When I open my eyes in the morning, you are the first face my soul searches for. At night, I want to fall asleep wrapped in your cologne, drawing your scent into my dreams until it beco
By Roshan Tara The moonlight spills over his silhouette, a hush falls across the room, and dread sinks into my stomach like a stone vanishing in the lake’s black water. His footsteps — staccato, delib
By Roshan Tara I never knew what love was, until the morning the metro doors slid open, and there he stood sunlight spilling over his hair, fingers curling around the strap of his bag. A navy blazer,
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