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Sea Shells
I was not there
where you are.
Non-stop travel, half the world
to meet you.
Outdoors alone in my homeless home
tonight I will talk to you in sleep
from the smoking hurts.
Trespassing the forbidden line
to the drowned boat,
I am opening the dark sails.
Hope and the sea
apprenticed to pluck the shells
from the eyes, I am wandering on beach.
poem
by
Satish Verma
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