Someone told me recently,
Imaginary things are obviously non-living.
I wonder then,
How come
the warmth of your touch,
the smell of your breath,
the feel of your embrace,
the sound of your voice,
the light in your smile,
Which I imagine
On days you distance yourself
From me,
Can be so alive
They breathe life into me.


About Aditi

My thoughts are who I am and I am what my thoughts make me.
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