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Poem: Love Plus 


While stirring your spirit, you asked:

What's your poison?

Love. I whispered.


Tell me

little, little lies



Your slipping

away is

a sestina.


Lancet of love:


like our love.


Her penultimate query:


seriousness of the subject.


What happens


meant to be.

  • A poem by Sanjeev Sethi.


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