Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Opaque Underbellies

In a moment
of panic-
you write a poem
to catch the truth.

The aplomb and glitter
of money's ride
shatters.

And the stones sing.
A star breaks away from
the galaxy.

I harbor your face
like a bee's sting.

I watch,
watch the ills of hunters.
Why you want to commit
the sin on a particular
day?
Orange planets, as of blood
and fire, seek another sun to light
the dark crevices
of doubts and fears.
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