Satish Verma
Riveting
Absolutely sapped out
I will unfurl
my flag today.
It was a raw wound
of nuanced statements in dark
when the moon fell in lake.
Talking to butterflies
as I take on the genre
of brainstormed hibiscuses.
It rained again in my
courtyard, wetting the
marbles and my eyes.
Take away the roof from
over my head. I have
come to meet the frozen tears.
The enormous guilt now
haunts the vacant eyes, why I didnot
accept the voluptuous breast of death.
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