In a heap of coal I see your hair;
In bean’s petals, I see your odd lips,
In cashew apple your invisible breasts,
In empty bladder your flattened stomach,
In leanness of crane your svelte limbs,
In freshness of shoot, your youthful skin
But none of them in its own is akin
To the glow your parts have, the angel!
04.02.2002, Pakd
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