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How Precious You Were
Folder:
Satish Verma I cannot say adieu to you.
Like an implant―
you will go with my bones.
Truth was always underlined―
with lies. Now lead was
floating in my blood.
No one will read the
hidden map. Pink claustrophobia,
with clenched teeth.
I will bring the blue
death in September, when
there would be no shade.
The human fires burn,
ablaze in verses. No tears
no masks. You move in circle
with no center.
