Like a wax moth, me―
sensing your footsteps
from a mile.
*
The half-truths
were always baked in milk
to look white.
*
The cleric was
jubilant. God has decided
not to live any more.
Satish Verma
sensing your footsteps
from a mile.
*
The half-truths
were always baked in milk
to look white.
*
The cleric was
jubilant. God has decided
not to live any more.
Satish Verma
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