dead of night
is my time
I reacquaint myself
with self cradling
inner uproar
mirrors fill with crushing sadness
strong family resemblance leaches
joy resoundingly bringing home
the fact… they are no more
Still…. in this still witching hour
neither night nor morning …sounds
of faint footfalls make me aware
they continuously stroll in my heart
Freda Kahlo


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