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Jul 2017
A wine taster was
ready to begin the birth
of night.

A wrinkle displays
the absurd mediocrity
of the charter.

I will not play
in the hands of unknowable
I have my own map.

I am shedding,
my skin, my color. Only
a truncated god will speak for me.
Written by
Satsih Verma
145
     Pax and Shanath
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