Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Virtually Untrue

Lethal mix
of blood ties― before
a fugue delivers its tremors.
A rage visits with the dark voices...

Reverberating in death chamber.

Heat seeking― the missile
goes straight into the heart of the Himalayas.

I am still recovering―
from the eternal fires― of biligual nights.

I am transfixed―
in my shoes― facing shoulder
fired― a sentence ejecting its hate.
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