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“Dawn breaks open like a ripe fruit, spilling its golden goodness. The fields are bathed in its light, the flowers, drunk on its nectar, and this heart of mine is tipsy on its sweetness.” — Jayita Bhattacharjee
Dawn breaks open like a ripe fruit, spilling its golden goodness. The fields are bathed in its light, the flowers, drunk on its nectar, and this heart of mine is tipsy on its sweetness.