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Sep 2018
Turning a monologue
into a hymn
when you take a fall.

The random truth
in flesh and bones.
Not me, not you.

It was grace
to become a fakir
without your gods.

The dead bovine
gives its skin, so that
you can walk on mud.

A shadow changes into
a Buddha, when you
refuse to die.

Taken for ungranted I will
become an argument for half-clads.
Written by
Satsih Verma
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