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Living, Not Existing!

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I open my door-   So mechanistically that my hands,   Do not feel the keys anymore.   I step into a house filled- With darkness so deep that you, Feel like you are in a black hole.   I drop everything I have- Lay inanimately on bed that makes me;   Question - Am I living (or) existing?   I close my eyes, for respite,   To fill my mind with you - Restless soul feels revived, A light lingers in my black hole. Fingers starts to feel your fist, While my eyes yearns for yours, A sea of tranquility drowns me- As your face and shadow fall on me, Feeling it I smile after quite a while -   Though you’re afar many a mile.   In these turbulent times of quarantine,   My thoughts of you are umpteen, Because, I feel like you are the key- That opens the door to living, and not existing.   Love, Ram