Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Sun-Baked

Into my arms,
your shadow to speak―
for light. Mischievous intrusion. I
belonged to eternal darkness, discovering
beautiful jewels.

The black vault hides a
truth of earth. You will be born
again as a nymph. A rainbow cow
jumps on the moon to browse tender,
high growing grass of ancient faith.

There was a preview, of things
not happened so far. Talking of
preludes was easier. I always
touched you by my deep exhales.
You sucked in the pious thoughts.

You fed me the consciousness
of rare genre. I become a god river
of iced peaks.
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