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Unpouring Grief
Folder:
Satish Verma Between you and me
there was no sound.
In oneness, I reached
your peaks.
It was a naked bloom
of jasmines. I smell the
duality. Would you come
for a rendezvous?
Pure as a glacier fall,
the silver-dark of moonless
night, I was waiting
for the ripples.
The bells, blue bells, start
echoing the cries. It was
not a kill. The invisible
was executed.
