Satish Verma
Anonymously
You want to cover
the great distance,
between you and lost innocence.
The imploded silence
will speak of
great murders.
I was going down-
the stairs,
to dig out the skeletons-
from the latched, oak
chest. The empty drawers
had the imprints of fallen ancestors.
Soon the eyes will
swell, with salt of
a frozen sea.
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