Stars That Never Rain
The other day, I thought about writing to you about you.
Nothing filled up that was worth letting go
Caught up in the process
I started with your name, spelt wrongly
and out of the line; precisely the kindgarten way
next I drew you and I holding hands but staring into different directions, perhaps aiming at little stars that never rain
Drawn out of desperate and angry looking fingers
Your face disfigured with patches of black spots and undone make up.
You should flip---
You would see the next page softened with ink poured accidentally but intentionally left to spread
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