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Jan 2019
You make history,
for not being ego-driven-
but taking in, poison
of blue necks.

I will ask you now,
to come home. This was
an instant hybrid effect.

When you appear in disguises
to conceal your love, I will
know what was your religion.

The flesh and bones revolt. You
tremble and crash like violent
waves on the beach.

The particulars waver.
You want to turn a new leaf,
lighting the earthen lamp at the door.

There was no ending
of night in moving sun eclipse.
I was behind the moon.
Written by
Satsih Verma
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