Satish Verma
Earthly Claims
The lunacy of
touching you, to plug a―
hole, in your innocence.
I wanted to explore
the horizon in your eyes,
where sun meets moon,
in graveyard of sins
and virtues.
Before you had become
my shadow, I used to smell
a distant scent coming
from a slithering
wet body.
I fumble for the words
for mercy of pain. My desert
was once a sea.
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