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Woke up from a dream
in colour where my limbs -
As my wings emerge
from fresh leaves -
Be it Ottoman or Mughal
the West's pictures -
Iridiscent goblets of self-love
float over sagacious intents, -
Once,
a surpise gift -
Fluids
keep flowing through -
-
When one thinks of the forked paths that lead to the union of two souls,
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