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Monilia

Irreverent arsenic of lake bottom was seeping in me I was riding on waves, moon-stuck. The nude shot of anemone, blindfolded after the criminal assault. Why they were throwing the lewed comments ? A raw cave of white pain, drags the deity out and dances on hawthorns. The butchers become sick, sick to the bones. O democracy, king was not wise, wise was not king. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 5/15/2012 7:12:00 AM
unusual poem....is this a real place?
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Book: Shattered Sighs