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Repeating Again
 
Not a single word was
written today, watching
the masks being perfected.

A nosedive, of what
I built without mercury,
without threads.

Sitting on a black
stone, wishing moon a
mist bath of absolute.

It again aches, my
roving heart, trying to
knit the harmony in black and white.

By satishverma

© 2019 satishverma (All rights reserved)

 

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