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Dogs greet, everytime, they meet, they meet, everytime, like the first time, pushing their, wet nose against you, to play, everytime an urge to, rush and stay.. while sleeping, when aproached, their tail, would still keep dancing, while digging their, sniffs onto their toys, they come to you, all jumpy and pouncing, with eyes seeking, approvals... They keep you protected, in a manner like, no one else, they check if you are okay, and follow you, to a cave or, a shabby mess.. They make requests, which even though, hit rejects, doesn't end up, reflecting stature, rubbing themselves, all over you, they sit alongside, as if they are, always ready for the ride, whenever... If it's late, They wait, If it's hate, They relate, If it's tears, They seek to distract.. Trust me, At some point they do, Have the power to read your mind.. They come to check, On you at night, They always acknowledge, That you are right, Your daughter just adores it's presence, Even though more ofte


I write about people I met..
About people whose eyes went wet.
About people who meant something.
About people who let go of everything.
I write about places I visit..
That talk to me.
That walk with me at every step.
That stalk me as I sleep..
That provoked me to find them no matter what.
I write about free spirits.
About the dancing street.
About the glaring little girl.
About the forest that fumes with fire.
About the mother who doesn’t sleep.
About the man who smokes to forget.
About morning that holds you.
About the night that folds you.


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