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Melting Nowhere
Folder:
Satish Verma Everything was in place,
and I started to find―
the kingpin, door by door.
Wanted to know more about the death,
when you were struck in silence―
of blackness.
Displaying the art of kill. It has
an ancient throw of fangs.
I am ready to catch the blues.
All day the hibiscus has
been bleeding. I will never
disappoint the skin of the pilgrim.
Oh pink eyes. Sometimes
I wonder, why this shade rests
after wedding a celibate.
