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In the bustling inn
In the bustling inn
Most patrons are smoking
I offered you one
Your eyes stiffened
I laid before you
A map of Hollywood
Electricity at each step
You looked unyielding
Maybe you prefer
Ripples of the river
Just a gentle shiver
From the tips of fingers
Very well, my dear
Please choose your own spring
Copyright ©
Probir Gupta
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