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Midnight Happening
Folder:
Satish Verma You never forget
the fat preemie.
A perfect revenge of the curse―
at ungiving.
Streaking in
snow, when it
was frighteningly dark.
The moon-bathed
body of the thumb king
running without feet.
How would you―
climb, the black hills
of desire in tragic land
of skulls?
The living god was to
become a marbled statue.
