Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Dysphonia

Silence has become
my book. I read―
from your eyes.

A wall you had
raised to unreach the
gifts of moons.

Electra complex of yore
still haunts you, walking
on blue lake.

I will sail crossing
the water barriers
scaling the heights.

There was a panic attack
igniting the stars of night
I will stand by the sky
when you rain―
in dots and lines.
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