Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Distraught

A long pause
after my signature peel
of the spasm.

It was a broken flight
of an anguished
end in itself.

Retrograding toward
an apolitical fault
for an apology.

Illegal, soaring, preparing
to take a dive
in the pit of fire.

For a gospel truth you
take cloak off the dagger.
You will sell your nudes.
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