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In deep conversation
Folder:
Satish Verma Again,
a hunt will start,
incognito.
Uncorfirming
a freak. A zipless encounter
without a knife.
I am not going
to lose a blue peacock.
Light will not come.
Into the dark recess
I had planted
a time bomb
in the womb.
Give me a blight,
if you want.
Yet I am going
to sail, combing
the moon.
