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From The Biography Of An Unknown Woman: Xxxiv
my skin dances
as if to a tune
if only you press
your lips against...
my breath ceases
as if it was the last
if only your hands
tighten around my self...
my invisible wings spread
as if set on a flight
if only your fingers fly
in their inimitable course...
so dreaming
she retires for the day...
05aug2010
12.59hrs
poem
by
Indira Babbellapati
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