Satish Verma
My Revenge
No thought was enough
from a stunning fall.
I am leaving the paradise.
In urn the past moves like
a weightless peony. I am
touching your lips.
The drowned wand. Can you
pick up the future from the time's
lake? I am a fish now.
Tiny beads on shut eyes. Are
you watching my burning house?
I am still inside.
His blindness or my grace;
when you would like to kiss?
The pricks were on the floor.
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