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Writer's pictureMadhusudan

Love with a different face



A poem A little wind and the flames were alive Which felt was buried came back to thrive. Is it her or the love with a different face. I long for divine how will we meet, I ache Is it need, want or desire I burn, I feel the fire. Does it need a name, a label or a frame when will I admit, when will I overcome the shame

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