The Ghost Monkey
Sunlight stealthily climbs the cold winter tree A ghost monkey, made of light. What was green, lost color to the earth, Only to be draped...
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AISHWARYA JAYAL
Prose and Poetry
Welcome to a collection of thoughts, feelings, emotions, and abstract ideas curated from the very depths of your soul, now journeying back to you in the form of the written word. Herein are our desires, humanity, burdens, and journeys laid bare for us to reflect on privately, and yet, in the knowledge that we are not alone.
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