You must have belonged to my room like a chair
or an unwanted museum piece brought home
no way I could summon you to the winding stair
Even the dust in my room has wings to flaunt the air
the ageing wall has its peels nestled on the tome
you must have belonged to my room like a chair
Wall calendars of bygone years have no trace in my prayer
too many dates unfit for a single breathless chant of Om
no way I could summon you to the winding stair
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