Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Some Royality?

My tamed verses
were for you― from the day,
you were born.

Iridescent,
must you leave this dark horizon,
trailblazing through my wilderness?

I was not looking
at your helm, what I saw inside your
brown eyes.

No holds barred.
I stretch to bend your
rigid thumb, in celebration
of victory.

That was not physical
through it seeped in every pore
of me.

Feigning to be normal
was not true, under the
spell of your mute consent!
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