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Honey Mooner
There was a silky assault
by a gray cloud over the sickle moon
and I went crazy.
Moon said I will come again
for the glittering makeup
when the curtain are drawn.
Indelible tattoos on my breast
will haunt you whole night.
You must suck the stars meanwhile.
Come March, I will shower the
blue stains on your shirt.
It will remind you the number of nights
you slept with me.
poem
by
Satish Verma
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