25 july 2019

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

Self-Effacement

Gender― 
was becoming unborn, ― 
untaught. Very fluid state. 
You could transgress the boundaries 
like the sea spreading over, 
on your land. 
 
My ankles giveaway. I cannot― 
walk incognito. Moon will 
not open the door. Nightshade welcomes 
with open arms. A climber 
with purple flower holds my hand. 
I may stumble. Almost done― 
disconnecting with present― 
and past. 
 
This is the sun. This is the 
sky. Circumcising becomes an 
escape, to cut off the bondage with yourself.

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