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Snaring
While delaying gratification,
you stripped-down
to bones.
It was winter solstice,
when day and night confronted
each other-
in negativity. Tracking
the frozen footprints, my absence
was generic.
I dread the barrenness-
of looks, the unwritten wounds
seeking the healer.
The avalanche falling
rapidly on the streets, with placards
demanding the gallows-
for the tainted. The
victim lies still. Ashes fly
back at the purebreds.
Satish Verma
Copyright ©
Satish Verma
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