Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Like Rosetta Stone

White holes
in black teeth.
An empty truth bleeds.

A lesser light
fights the darkness in a ring.
There was no excuse
for harmony.

The earthen flame
meets the sun behind
the horizon. No more
violence should repeat.

The stripped candles―
cover their faces with melting
tears. You can snap only the wicks.

Your body becomes
a temple. You consecrate
it with blood.
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