Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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After The Harmony

Frightened of ending―
what, that did not start.
I try to touch― the timeless zero.
There were no numbers.

I give you what I did,
not have. The future of gilded doors
and agonized window's past.
You offer an eternal smile.

Will I carry the red clouds
beyond your tears and
my trampled wreaths?
We talk ceaselessly ear to ear.

Your silent invite always
baffles me. This world has
always used me as stairs. Why
were you still standing on the ground?

The twinkle works. I shut
my eyes to grab you.
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