White House

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It was a rape of a city. Go ahead. 
I still speak the old phrases 
with back pain. 

And let fly the silence 
in beautiful emptiness 
of a swollen heart. 

On pain of anonymity 
I wanted to clear my name 
from tangled fame. 

The after death comfort 
of words when clarity 
moves in the home of a meaning.

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