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Exploring
Folder:
Satish Verma Angina, after
the vessel broke,
tumbling out all the gifts.
You will take a long walk
thinking about the moon
in wilderness of lonely trees
of mid December.
There were no blood―
spots on the street, after the
removal of hoofers.
You would not under―
line the red verses. The stray
full stops alter the pain.
When you repeat
the names, I start forgetting
who were the sinners.
