Satish Verma
See My Hands
Overreaching for chemical signs
and word for word,
you want to move on-
without parents.
This was only a poetic
idea, that no weapon will
be used for execution.
Not offering an apology,
we were dissecting the ethics
of violence and war.
A chilling reminder, you are
going to starve the definitions.
But no clarity was visible.
I am becoming bones
and taut nerves.Only eyes
were looking ahead of the tempest.
Roofs were melting.
You want to hit the sky.
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