Poetry

Satish Verma


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13 january 2022

Moaning Chimneys

There was no rationale
of jinxed proxy. Let me sort
out the gifts of a no god.

You want to initialize me
in forgetting you. Was it so
simple standing under the rains?

Who were you in
my nest, divorced from the
silence of the aches?

The door will not open now for
the moon to walk in for a tender kiss.

This soil, the grief
the stairs I am going to throw
your malignant civilization.

Start respecting yourself now.
I will come to pick
up my virginity.

You do not know, what was
behind this inertia.






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