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Salt Lake

In my domain I am the child again lost in labyrinth of stairways unable to find my home. A swarm of bees descends gives anaphylactic shock I am dead in my arms. You carry a dead gorilla on the makeshift scaffold, somewhere a female was beating her chest. Blood on the face of moon my sobs will not stop flowing in muddy streaks in pits of tattoos. Eggs of blue bird were waiting for the mother to come, kids were on doormats. It was always the salt lake. No body was going to drown wolves, sharks and men! SATISH VERMA

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things