Sanjeev Sethi

Let me accept, in the thicket between you
lies the provenance of many of my poems.
Had not you been generous and gingery
or as guarded as you got, my oeuvre may
have taken other trajectories, inditing
other idioms. The singe of your sensation
unfurls fleche-like salutations. Florescence
to this fealty shames me.

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