Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Mutual Hurts

His murmur turned
into a howl―
after the blast.

Pumice and ash cover
the holy book. Time and space
were shrinking.

Like I had become
lava, that snaked in the
cries. Night spreads a
brilliant darkness.

A river starts
burning. You cannot swim.
I let you go to meet
your gods.

It is your face which floats
on the sea of violence.
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