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Invisible Import
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Satish Verma The space had a scent.
In stunned silence, I will
speak my mind.
More was less. Nothing
stirs, the raging pyre.
As if the poverty of thoughts had ended.
The happenings, splinter
the dream again. Sun steps out
from the black clouds.
You find yourself
interpreting the propelled blaze,
sleeping amidst the mirrors in dark.
The bondage jumps the
boundaries. I am your only
dilemma. I never speak in whispers.
