Diving

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Forest was partisan 
lilies blushing, 
moon was parting the milky way, 

on the terrace 
the absurd man, and the spaces 
missing, 
the house locked in, 

are left 
wrecked manuscripts of attempts 
to save the translations 
of life’s books 

Give me some language 
to read again 
from the walls

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