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We like stars, anything that shimmers
And makes a statement of light, need a bow

A wish, a fall, an airy kiss. We love to love the stars.
The birth from a nebula and a death as a supernova

And a lifetime of giving what the heart owns.
And we look up, through naked eyes, telescope lenses

And we ogle the little starfish that rose from the depths
And leapt to the heavens. And light is always over-appreciated.

It has more value than the nearest estimates. Like the child
That builds a little science project hoping to win a medal at school.

And we are children in front of stars, we suckle
Our dreams from their breasts. And we wish for a falling star

Every passing night. When loneliness speaks a language
Of his own, and lusty particles sprinkle from the heavens.

And you find a glass of rum and coke and cling on to a mouthful
Letting it leak down your throat ever so slow. And dreams are like that.

They are swallowed in. Like stars falling through black holes.
And every dream is an event horizon, only a few steps away

From evanescence. Only then do you realize that a stargazer
Is just a pipe dreamer. And stars are dappled memories

Of the naïve dreamer you once were. Now I drink Rum and coke
And dance alone knowing I over-appreciated

During my beautifully fat Ph.D.. And now I don’t appraise my dreams
I just exchange them to any bidder. Like a little

Trip to Odel and buying a 14000 rupee pair of shoes.
And all of a sudden my dreams are lifting me.

Carrying me like a chariot on foot. And I like Krishna
On a juggernaut absorbing in my high. And who said money

Can’t buy happiness. I bought a dream just yesterday.

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