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Writer's pictureSayantan Datta

Last night --

I forgot to close the door to my balcony. You came in, A gust of wind.

Slowly,

Knocked off the Buddha statue. Ashes from last night's unfinished incense flew And settled on the floor.

Cold and polluted -- You hit my lungs.

Odour of a dream

Caustic.

I breathed you in And heaved you out, I shut the door And prayed devout.



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Science journalist, communicator & writer

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