22 june 2012
SUNFLOWERS
A preacher was shedding
dirty tears
for burning hills.
Pinned up on tongue
was a slogan.
Death for all sunflowers.
Draped in blood
who was trespassing
the sickle moon?
I cannot raise the mist
where you stand naked
in sunlight.
Somebody has killed
the pathological god.
I am starting a new kitchen.
Satish Verma
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absynt
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jeśli tylko
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ajw
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marka
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marka
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marka