Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Not In Tears

Now I am used to
betrayals.
I don’t hit back
in the vanishing light.

Very frightening,
I will say.
Sightless bats hovering
round your head.

Have started playing
the game with the nettle.
I will take the stings
and give you back honey.

An intimate kiss of a
naked beetle.
Are you coming for the
last supper?
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