Satish Verma
As If Life Has Stopped
Why am I so sad?
I asked the waning moon.
The sun started flirting.
The vellum― still carries
the imprint, where you had
pressed hennas hands.
I came out once of
myself to look at me
from the falling star.
You would never know.
How had you cheated yourself once―
by praying for death.
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