Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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No One Was Real

In aloneless,

searching for you―

in a dark truth

trying to find a place

between the eyes.

Like a meme, a gene―

I carried you in my arms

by moonlight sonata

where the ocean meets

the flames.

Unmasking

pumic stones, the

face of volcano― frozen eyes.

You walk under the palms

in dream shadows.

The dust flies without

a wind. Exposed relics,

in dry river bed,

give you the bloodbath

of forgotten rhymes.
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