talking inside


earbud flutters aloud to tear apart the beeping rudeness
  this smelly tight-jaw limits of lengthy silence in inner holds
  it’s that little shock in quick enter, a streak of conducting pain
  breaks in the grills of self-imprisonment, converses in a happy quiver
  rising out of a pleasant yellowness laden eve with slanting shadows
  by a sudden sipping dip of senses in the simple and sonorous steel cup 
  smoking ironhot with its fluorescing brown tinges, a very Indian dust tea


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