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Come To Me As You Are?
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Satish Verma You are landing
in all my poems. Mirror
speaks death from death
life from life.
Born in clay oven.
I praise god. You leave
your handprints.
Loaves were mine.
Was it not insulting
fire? A catastrophe? I
worshiped the goddess Agni
for its immaculateness.
An eagle makes
a preemptive dive
at interphase of lips and
tearful eyes.
