Contributor: Ananya S Guha

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Winter's leaves are breaking
into slow mists of burns
the sun appears in morning
ebullience, fades into
wrinkles. Green oranges
heap the markets
as the seller looks
at her dossier.
Can apples go
with oranges or grapes?
Childhood sidles into inertia.
Someone in the fish market
yells. Inertia again.


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