Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Colloquy

Will you wait for me
till the moon parts the clouds
and the lake looks serene?

A reticent encounter;
I want to speak through─
silence. A shadow play will do.

Mystic nights weave─
a conspiracy. The insects
hover like words.

A lamp? No I will
burn my bridges to illuminate
the river.

Between the math─
and a story lies
the bloody corpse.
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