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Green Waters
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Satish Verma Gifting yourself the speed―
you betray me, when
I was trying to heal―
the injured wings of time.
Archipelago. The islands
were very lonely in frozen lake.
No boat was in sight.
Having no coastline,
the landlocked language,
suffers the ignominy of the tribe.
The neighbourhood crawls
after the nose-dive of
the plane without agenda.
Shelterless, you want more
sunshine to fight with
the cold beach.
