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Bring it on

Breathing.
No sense of smell.
Thinking.
No signs of valid thought.
Talking.
Not a single point made.
Listening.
Not a word audible.
Crying.
Salt is bloody tasty.
Bleeding.
When’s it’s dry, it smells good. Perhaps.
Writing.
Writing.
Written. Forgotten.
Remembered. Written again.
Forgotten again.

Allies turn foes.
Subordination turns sore.
Had enough. Stop!
No more.

Ok, fine.

Bring it on dear Sir.

Varun Rajagopalan.

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