Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Stoically

How many light years you―
have, when I walk
in dark?

The spiral galaxy shakes
me up.Haloes of gas.
I smell you lavender.

Effeminacy. Sometimes the
moon will wear a veil and
I will never know you.

More comfortable when the
ism will go. A stout mount
comes down indigenously.

I will expand a soaring
silence. Abrogation of faith
will give a call.
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