The animal wakes
in you, when moon cries.
I bend to lift the sun.
Blood has no Dharma.
I sit as an amber fossil.The
ripple in dust will not take it.
I am worrird about you.
The mating between words
gets ready to fight stigma.
Satish Verma
in you, when moon cries.
I bend to lift the sun.
Blood has no Dharma.
I sit as an amber fossil.The
ripple in dust will not take it.
I am worrird about you.
The mating between words
gets ready to fight stigma.
Satish Verma
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