Time warp, time lapse,
This is not what is
Prescribed.
Yet to meet on the other side,
Where once I sat,
Together with their voices.
The window screen is polka-dotted
With raindrops.
Each minute full,
Of the next door story.
A hundred faces evolve,
A hundred faces fade.
Somewhere singing out of a flute,
Somewhere,
As golden waves of sunset.
This is not what is
Prescribed.
Yet to meet on the other side,
Where once I sat,
Together with their voices.
The window screen is polka-dotted
With raindrops.
Each minute full,
Of the next door story.
A hundred faces evolve,
A hundred faces fade.
Somewhere singing out of a flute,
Somewhere,
As golden waves of sunset.
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