Poetry

Satish Verma


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12 january 2013

DEEP UNDERSTANDING

Tilted lips on the wet eyes.
Below the lids
was floating an island in a lake.

Latched to a full moon
I was trotting with snowshoes,
trekking with stars.

A volatile virginity
rebounds
ticking in your heart, spiteful.

And I, lonely as a black hill
seek the silver dew
that moons the green windows.


O malignant night
I was not worthy of death
you bestowed on me.


Satish Verma






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