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Power Lines
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Satish Verma The numbers were going up
and hallowed men were no─
more saints.
You find that your shirt
was stained. Now
you talk
to strangers. fear creeps─
under the skin.
You come near each other in─
dark. Reverting yourself
Against the wall of water as
high as your ego. Epidural abscess─
a silence of unknown.
Now, every hour you die. Light
abducts the dreams. Nothing to-
talk about the blitzkrieg.
Satish Verma
