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Satsih Verma
Poems
Jan 2020
In Dustbath
The freckles were
appearing on the face
of Venus-
Arms broken.
A man-eater was shot
dead, while feeding.
The reddened skin
invites a vespa. Sometimes
you love the stings.
You wait for
the sunsets, before the
Venus flytrap shuts.
Drifting on the
dust road, I start
searching my lost address.
How will you hear
my voice?
#life
Written by
Satsih Verma
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