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The Elevator

written by: Aswin



My fingers play a tasteless rhapsody
as I slowly rise to my doorstep;

watching my fingers dance in the mirror
I realise
the girl in the elevator
has lost her voice.

Mind you, it is the season of sickness
and longing wraps its long fingers around my heart.

I disappear into darkness
like a soap lather feather
dissolving in the shower.



Aswin is a poetry enthusiast and a student of poetry. Recently graduated and incorporated into corporate world, he is keen to capture daily experiences in verse.
His poems have been published in Deccan Chronicle and The Unprecedented Review.

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