Satish Verma
Map Reading
In blood and grass
lies the snowman.
I must not look at it twice
after the spring melt.
The black magic has failed.
A mooned night will―
not reflect the real intent
of song's proxy in dark.
A lethal mix of twilight
and solstice, squats in gloom
to listen the surrender
of shine.
The glorious name, ultimately
drops the hint,
of profanity, written on wall.
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