Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Like A Moonbeam

A brief encounter with the depth charge,
paralyzed waist down,
looking within
looking without
counting the vibrations in sea shells,
I could hobble along with a younger poem
my love trapped in words.

We were reaching nowhere
near destination.
Our shadows entwined
with our steps.
Bluebells not withstanding catkins of mulberry
stood waist high
for the catwalk.

We kept wishpering
unworldly nothings,
like autumn leaves rustling in air.
Petals of purple bruises squirting the smell of desire.
I will touch you
like moon beam
from dark sky.
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