Satish Verma
Anchorite
Layer by layer, a pterygium
was removed to improve the vision.
Eyes did not blink.
The words did not come
on your tongue.
You learned to become a stranger.
A cemetery woke up tonight.
No body was going to put
to sleep in dark.
For peace you die,
living alone with death
in a desert of bullets.
Under the sun
you abandon food for the sake of red ants,
who were going to crawl on your body.
Satish Verma
https://truml.com