The Hsenura

March 30, 1998 - India
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Puff

What more should I do?
To be twined all time,
Toxic and suicidal,
Never I trimmed to lock
Your scent in my beard.
Still you hurry every time.
What more should I do?
I cut my nails with fear
To never hurt you whilst
My laborious lips fondle.
Still you burn my fingers.
Someday, when I drop,
And never take you back,
Our friends who hate you,
Might blame you for me.
Never listen to them,
For every puff I took,
Darling, I took with love,
Without remorse or hate.
If I ever lived a little,
With bliss and ecstasy,
It's when I held you,
And kissed you dearly,
To join you in ashes,
When I returnst to dust.
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