When took a dip in Ganga
that pink sari
imbibed a lot of Advaitha.
...glued to her skin
and lost identity...
became a mound of her mounds
curve of her curves
and dip of her dips.
I knew how euphoric that pinky felt
When dried up and separated from her
...retained her shape.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And euphoric did I feel with that view..