Life Happens in Episodes
Once in a while, you meet someone
who gradually walks,
on the thresholds of your imagination.
Flashing through your mind,
on those remote hours
as you pause from work,
or stare out through your window
as the day sets into the glimmering sky.
They are like wine
and the colour brown,
unavoidable blend
of dusk and passion
you nurture,
on your veins.
Make them your pigeons
Let them roost and leave
than die on your balcony
Over fed and senile.
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