Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Today

Knowing too much
was painful.

Shedding the fear, we were
disappearing in each other.

The rioting has spread
between deathless principles.

Unborn was
the sadistic attack-

sleeping on roses. There
was hidden sex in the pricks.

I made love with
the bones-
unthreading.

I will not borrow
the colors of moon
now.
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