Festered wound

Festered wound

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By  Shubhrastha Cultivated love withers with weather-ed change. Just as the radios distributed have withered away in rust, in want of signals- that hang limply in desperate search. The tendons of snapped cables, doctored channels, filtered news. News freeze in memory too curfewed to kiss the caskets called brain sockets- just as my neighbor’s blood lies buried under layers of this snowy ‘paradise’ in an awaited wish to unstiffen and thaw. To release bloody tears of ‘special status’ happiness. Can you see the bunkers behind the green paints? Or do you think it’s the lush green valley rosy with bloody

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