Spacious, shiny, new roads are built in my city to rent them for raw-markets
Come, let’s smoke a cigarette together on a dark veranda and count how many flats
We stopped talking earlier. Yet there was a chance that I’d run into you. There was a chance of seeing you on the Gollamari bridge buying vegetables.
Two flats facing each other He’s on the stairs, she’s at the door
A copper coloured dog bit her
Nowadays I dream too much