The boy is a sweet from a foggy space.
The girl always yawns herself to death.
His moment is her threshold, her train
To get into and get off from, a sweet.

He has his own flimsy yawns to sleep by
To push sleep aside for permanent death.
His liminal moments are mountain trains
To get off from, to get into, idiot girls
With their own pushing yawns of death.

His birth was a radio moment of a girl
When a radio ad is on and a mom is off.
The ad girl has her finger on her lips
Her liminal moment, a frozen sugar-sweet.

(Watching a Hindi movie entitled Barfi)

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