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CURVED IN
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Satish Verma Uncovering your breasts
and waist,
you become half-eaten.
Disaffection
fathere a child.
The intimacy was
false. There were anger and theatrics.
The paternity suit falls
flat. The boundaries between
underthings are torn.
Painting the self-portrait
I had made a cut on my face
for you to bleed.
With a flick of hand
you wipe out the whole future.
