Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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What A Galaxy

Moon was mixing the colors.
The black hole does not exist.
I was hearing about the quantum,
something was amiss.

Purple grapes had turned black.

I am trying to understand
the damages. A discreet thought hole
permits the escape of energy.

Imagination was at risk.
Can you hold on to life,
without a shock?

Somewhere you go back
to a concentration camp to collect the ashes.
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