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Your Mirror
Santwana Chatterjee |
Our first encounter! But I don't know.
Though I smelt you in my mother's womb from the word ‘go’
Admonished by father I cried, a naughty child
You were in my papa's voice, in his stern stride
My girlhood friends and mates –
With burning desire , I loved them all
With my body and soul
The thread in your hand
You smiled all through
But even till then, I have never known you
Until the day
You were lying in my hands
A tiny little angel – my bundle of joy
So pure and gentle, my tears ran out
Inside I was laughing
You are here no doubt
The innocence, the purity
The love that it draws
Picture of divinity
Your mirror shows
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