During the next monsoon rains,
when the torn blues stitched with grey clouds
reminds you of our college days,
the days we were all together,the dream days..
you may read these lines just
to gaze at a candle and,the tears..
from those frail eyes groping,groping,at last
blossom to a valley of flowers,
one of them being myself
wishing to be fondled by your touch......
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