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Aug 4, 2011

Brazen Sand

I waited in my pillaged shack
like you’d ordered me to,
before you trod foreign sands.
The mirages of your arrival
were like remnant shadows of my
fallen, looted village
that you’d scoured on your way.
But, my parched earthen lips, breathless
bequeaths a final heave for you,
a fair disgust, to pale the heart-line
and renew its beauty with 
the smell of fresh henna
and glass bangles clinking at my wrists.
“These limitless boundaries I shall cross
to marry you, Sana.” you’d said Musafir.
“Three years! For a bandit?” I thought every night. 
and I walked into Iftikar’s thatch again...

Rajashree Anand

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