Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Evoking Images

It was not easy to recall,
the love in truancy. Needs
extra gene. I would wake up in blue
darkness for an aubade.
The salt glitters when I
shut the mind.

In random wreckage,
the first glow before dawn,
sets you on fire. A star gazing
begins, buried in the flesh, only
the eyes protruding, incapable
to locate the moon.

A blank paper floats. You
were surfing on words. Not
yet to meet the inevitable. Not
the kiss of hurt. I am coming
to unfurl the opus, the
noble commitment of navel crossing.
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