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May 2018
Mounting surveillance
on myself after snapping
hyphenated bond.

I will set you free
from the white paper, carrying―
your beautiful face.

The slanting eyes
will haunt me in dark, I will
turn around and cry.

When did rift emerge―
while playing the moons? The lake
was ready to drown me.
Written by
Satsih Verma
187
 
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