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Don’t Throw The Bomb
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Satish Verma They will not come down
with branding iron and bobbing stings.
Instead.
we will walk down the earth,
to meet the silence
in half-lit homes of enemies.
This poverty
of pause
and peeling off from giants of
fences. I send a green rose to you
from trembling hands,
to smell the death of half-truths.
The bridge has collapsed.
We start digging up for the bodies
beyond curtain of bricks and stones,
the iron-grids of flower gates.
