Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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A River Flows Inside Me

You drape me, with wet kisses
O moon.
I will not forget you
in freezing rain.

At dangerous arch,
blue-veined―
milk in milk has made me red.

The ecstasy digs out
the hidden lyric,
I would never sing.

Will you find any
questions, to defeat the―
intimacy of a rape?

A hurt here, a bruise
there, my faded shirt
covers the poems.
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