I open the book
too stoned
to read my name.
Like a feather,
you roll in
sleep, painless.
The milky moon
was still. Shadows
were trembling.
Mushrooms in
mist, wake up
to stand in circle.
Satish Verma
too stoned
to read my name.
Like a feather,
you roll in
sleep, painless.
The milky moon
was still. Shadows
were trembling.
Mushrooms in
mist, wake up
to stand in circle.
Satish Verma
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