Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Decision

Waiting for a supermoon
like Aphrodite.
I translate my twinge
into moonlight.

The speed now hurts.
I want to go slow in dark,
Like wayward feet ambulating towards a carnivore.

It was not fair to call for
the soft snow,
when my eyes start
surging like a natural spring.

You had almost eaten me
alive with black fingers.
I did not sin, you come like
thunder making me deaf.
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