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Like Searching Some Heirloom
Folder:
Satish Verma It came like a hail
of leads.
An avalanche of
frog words.
There was no apology for pods.
Living in a seed vessel,
was very precarious. It
splits open from both sides.
You stand naked amidst
the barbs.
Will ever the man will do god
to a man?
I come near the lake
when moon lives.
Something was wrong. He was
looking very thin tonight.
I was not prepared for the pink tears.
