Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Tremulous Light

In my sky your blackbird
a lamp without a light
making a nest of moon
where the fireflies will meet.

A mirror breaks my dream
I paint my graveyard with blood
of a rose which felled a tattoo
from the morning dew.

They make love under a -

cloud in shimmering dark
of vanishing youth; One day someone
will claim the fallen vial.
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