5 october 2018

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

Conceiving

The knife peels off 
the silence. 
Colours were very shrewd. 
 

 
Tonight I want to sleep 
open-eyed, to keep a 
vigil on shooting stars. 
 

 
The wood god 
had no limbs. Only jewels 
were used as prostheses.

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