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Sunday, July 1, 2012

Not home

.

She spent a couple of hours
On the blue leather tub chair
Wrapped up in a bedsheet
Rocking
Wondering
Why he isn't here.
Why he doesn't come.
She rocked and stared and stared
At the glass half full of the cheap Goan Feni
The cigarette ash floating on the surface
Thinking it will be morning soon
And then she would escape
The senseless laughter
From a place she
Clearly did not belong.

.

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