Murmuring cycles of talks and laughter Intermix with hot steam and dim light…
It all falls in the backdrop somehow, Speaking aloud are her thoughts periodically…
Its dizzy yet peaceful… And although the earth seems to spin faster than it should,
But for this very moment She is her own…
The clatter, the ruffles, The scented candles and coffee, Music and silent pauses…
They oscillate
And yet all it is, Is the recital of her’s…
The weave of her life: A kaleidoscope of fast strokes in calm colours… A ballet in motion with its pauses and sharp pirouettes… A seat beside the window of a speeding bullet train…
And the spiralling turbulence of steam with it’s vortex on her still coffee…
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