hmmm. Will my kiss taste the same…of smoke from a blurred
decade.. Will it taste of highs that were, or of lows after, from behind the
roach wall. Only that infinitesimal moment will tell.
This reminded me of the poem of people that come into your
life for a Reason, a Season or a lifetime. Of Gnarls Barkley & Crazy
and the shadows in the land of chup…and some more. Happily Muddled. Again.
Also, love that it’s handwritten. Enjoyed reading it. :)
http://asifkhan.in asif khan
you rolled this quite well within your head
Sameera
The circles. Intersections. Sometimes life is trapped in them. I like this post. Very much.
http://asifkhan.in asif khan
inside the intersections, or maybe outside the intersections? thanks, glad you liked.
