Bohemian noises
Clog my lungs
Like smoke inhaled
Bitter twirling in my mouth
Of a wee bit long brewed Darjeeling
Traces of all my touches
Find sanctity in
The Latin script of Octavio Paz
Your touches flash in my eyes
Like redirected letters
Just before getting lost
Your tears
Take you to the digital
Analogue of
Long distance calls
© nidheeshtyagi may, 2007
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