She says: Words are frozen
What about crossing them?
Word-mountains
Courage
Frozen?
He carries the corpse
As he had written
Four years back
Who knows!
The corpse may tell him
A last story!
She says: She has burnt the corpse
A lilting birthday gift
It is difficult to cry with specs
They only add curves to the tear-tracks
I am no chaplin
Still does it rain without you!
I put on my dark sun-glasses.
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