This
was to happen,
Sky
showers nectar and poison at the same time;
Choice
has no choice:
Conscious,
unconscious,
Buds
bloom and disperse
As
stories are sung in the background, or on the stage
From
the ground despite predicaments!
The
shell doesn't have grievance when the egg pops out,
Rushes
into an eager mouth;
A
moving tree doesn't regret,
When
its perfume sneaks into a stranger’s veins;
Desires
oozing out of the barks dead or alive,
Back
and forth, in moments flowing in and out:
Without
shape and measurements!
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