Suddenly I was in a forest where scents of mimosa branches mingled with the perfumes of Tamala trees. "You are like a flowering creeper in the forest wilderness - seeking Krishna in his many haunts. _____ The god of love has increased his ordeal and is tormenting you with fevered thoughts," I read.
A woman who wore the face of a friend
a .mov flickered in the forest
rocket were punctuated by the ponytail that hung down his back.
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