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Ununderstood
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Satish Verma In deep silence
my words float in your eyes,
past twilight.
I will stay in parlor
to watch a lazy moon.
A tarantula starts moving.
An ancient prayer
leaves the footprints on
the skin of dead song.
Let it be stolen
my peace, in the name of
a bitter fight with stars.
The spirit of thumb
to meet forefinger would
remain eternal.
