The rolling down feast of salt,
The acrid stench of dead desires,
Rotting frame of past liaisons,
Loneliness seeping into tired bones.
Roll in the hay,the valuable spent,
All come rushing to my Mind,
At the very mention of few names.
Distance not withstanding,
In this era of means.
what matters is the climax,
Of tales begin in hush hush tone.

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About Nalini Srivastava

I am an Indian.I write to let go of myself.It is my catharsis.My biggest inspiration is my son and every passing moment of life.I am a teacher by profession and the way I love to write ,I love to teach.With my one solo poetry book already published "Feminine Musings" hope many more will see the light.

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