Gently in shades of red, blue and ether
Bunching them all in my saree end
I carry them for your worship my friend
But alas, they are all muddled in grey
Can you hear me speak without them pray?
I drench my thoughts in whirlpools of wanderlust
Memories of sunsets, sweet sad thirst
Drawing half-lost maps of lingering trust
I send them to you in hazy fitful texts
But alas, they are all addled, perplexed
Can you find your way without maps and texts?
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