Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Silvereyes

Breaking the silence
you speak in velvety tone.
The hunter has been hunted.

I return your pride
in the hands of monolithic world.
There were other globes
beyond the sun, past
the vocabulary.

When thoughts become a
song, peace comes back and you
can see the distance
between the stars.

Evading the nuances, white
stones manipulate the commerce
of truth. I remain empty handed
to understand the meaning
of shade.

I will bring a canvas
for you. We will paint together a
serene lake!
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