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A n u j a   G h i m i r e
T h e   M i s s i n g

The forensics of memories is inconclusive.

In an instant,

Your eyes in the photograph


Every time your image

Turns into paper,

A snake hisses.

The spaces with the traces


Each speck of dust now has a sound.

The last voicemail

Is trapped and fleeing.

The final text


You walk backwards in every scene.

And your hologram

plants itself

in the living room.

But I have to remember

Your face. 



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