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Untouched Bites
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Satish Verma Like eating a smoked fish,
you put up bizarre questions. This is my
moon to swallow the venom.
The weary legs carry
the burden of a bruised body, breathing
still, but I feel the dead flowers of Petunias.
The bronze goddess comes
out of a temple to disperse the black days.
For you the stings will come.
