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Manic Poems and the Mad Genius
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Satish Verma Stair and well are between, death
and kissing a viper. You are walking
in the shadows, feeling a chilling thought.
It gives you a pause. In your pockets
there are empty hands. Your glacier face
is not melting in the hot sun.
suo moto, there is anti-love
content. You start an algorithm. Stone
and water always live together.
