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Orbs for Eyes

By Ridhima Bhagawati


My father shoots heart-shaped arrows,

And misses, every time he tries.

For hands locked behind, glancing now and then,

His target hovers in disguise.


When she bends down, to steer my hands, 

And direct my fingers, in awe I rise.

To learn from her, a distracted student,

Distracted by the orbs in her eyes.


By Ridhima Bhagawati


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