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Don't Remember Me
Folder:
Satish Verma Adream dies today under
my foot like the butterfly. Were
you in secular age? Soul poem—
Goes in search of live wasp.
Your fawn eyes, like Cleopetra reading
Dante. I was dust around the moon.
No outsider will witness
the fire of Ganges. It's quiet flow of
lava carrying the corpse of love.
