archana talupuru

Cold.. - Poem by archana talupuru

the dead ethnic beauty is what is seen
and bones is what will be seen

the currocive clouds die away with tears
silt and salt merge

the olives dead colour sinks
with a mixture of a neutral solution.

gracious dead
golden gracious is what we'll wish

dead is what we are....

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 4, 2008

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