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The Walls

A green smoke was rising to ferret out the elusive pain without body. I went in search of fidgety words to patch up the conflicts of flesh. Bold as Passiflora, Crucifixion was complete. Today a gift of obeyance will arrive. It was a fake. The eyes on the hump. Camel has to cross a steep desert. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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