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Blessing
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Satish Verma At dusk, when moon was coming up
fidelity was challenged.
No soul was searched.
It was the body scarred in bright sun.
One pink petal flew over the cloud
and landed on the lake.
Will you gather the name and
send it back home?
It was a sacred gem, in the
navel of organdie, you had
worn on the night of a slaughter.
Opalescence, scolds the light,
dark was beautiful?
