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Jul 2013
On the bend the rosy face
And I've grown so old
The ponytail the flowered lace
Once ends it's never retold.
A moment's fullness of the dewy lip
And I've grown so old
The hazelnut eyes quick n deep
Once and forever was I sold.
In the air the silken hand
And I've grown so old
A touch that dreamed to land
Would not land was foretold.
Night's end a touch on forehead
And I've grown so old
Always knew it was dream-made
Fantasies the passing years rolled.
Pradip Chattopadhyay
449
   Nat Lipstadt and ---
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