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May 2017
You are trying to
seel the half-truths
in terror.


In the fear of-
annihilation, you
want to remain unborn.


The pity of unnaming
the pain, your body wrapped
in tinfoil- ready to be roasted.


The barren spirituality-
and nudeness-
of ecstasy.Do you think you were floating

like a cadaver?
Who will drink
the arsenic now?

The miracle.
I am legless and I move
swiftly to catch the words.
Written by
Satsih Verma
193
 
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