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Poetry

St. Hallows Eve
Poetry

St. Hallows Eve

Day 29 of 100 in my 100-day writing project
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Swathi
Thinly sliced.
Poetry

Thinly sliced.

Day 27 of my 100-day writing project.
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Swathi
Spell the word.
Poetry

Spell the word.

Day 18 of my 100-day writing project
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Swathi
The story of a summer
Poetry

The story of a summer

Day 10 of my 100-day writing project.
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Swathi
Boundaries.
Poetry

Boundaries.

If lines could be drawn and walls could be built, I’d be the chief of my thoughts and the queen of my feelings.
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Swathi
Hiding
Death

Hiding

I roll my tongue and hide it inside the cave of my mouth.
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Swathi
A month of shadows
Berlin

A month of shadows

I slacked and moped around, whined about being creatively blocked, and emotionally drained. June was a month of shadows.
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Swathi
Trance
Dream

Trance

Slipping between random movements of my eyelids, I pause to breathe. My breath rises and falls; it chases the film that unfolds. I’m a witness.
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Swathi
Skies of yore
Poetry

Skies of yore

The sun bursts into a million flames, painting the sky with its richness of light ochers, bright yellows and burnt siennas.
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Swathi
Freedom
Poetry

Freedom

The sky always tells a story.
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Swathi
Thursday
Berlin

Thursday

I breathed fire. I revered the sun. I wore my passion in my heart, and swore my life to my art. I danced to the tune of cackling embers.
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Swathi
Dripping daffodils
Poetry

Dripping daffodils

What are daffodils? How do they look, or where do they grow? and how do they smell? This poem explores the depths and breaths of what a daffodil is to the poet.
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Swathi
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