The strand was twisting n curling just slightly away from my face
Everytime it touches me a sickening , burning, pleasurable feeling etches across
The wind was throwing it up again n again
And with every ebb it was trying to reach me ,
Sometimes succeeding sometimes not…
And every time I hope it just won’t…
But its there, still there, mocking , ridiculing, piercing…
Just a strand of hair, twisting n curling,
I couldn’t lift my hand to push it back…
M I enjoying this..may be!! May be not!
…………………………………………………
This time if it will reach me I will rip it..
I thnk it has understood, now it won’t …
It has relaxed and I m glad…
I m feeling nothing now…
Nothing!!
Nothing….
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