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Nov 2020
Not understood you well.
Me living in myself. Your eyes will behold
what my naked hands carry.


My truth was also your truth,
in same boat. I cannot recognize
my path in sea. Moons dancing with each other.

Let us wait for night fall.
The lines in your rough hands. What do they tell?
I am collecting palm leaves. Who was coming?
Written by
Satsih Verma
29
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