SCISSORS
The window was closing. Whole life went by, to understand oneself, trying to find the true meanings of words, using myself as a bait. To read or not to read the unwritten, blank page. A dot a dash, a comma, parenthesis. They were trying to find the signature pains. A green rust starts burying the crumbling wall. The cognitive climb gets a setback. Suddenly the peeling off starts, of makeup. You stand naked. Satish Verma
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