Satish Verma
Gliding
Was it altruistic, donating
the light to the
data-catchers?
Sexing at the crack of
dawn, when you
were still a primate?
Let a requiem begin
for the repose of undead
souls, writhing in life.
Draped in skin, the
hungered crowd, comes
for a dip in confluence.
The frail sky now falls
in the river. there will-
be no prayer today.
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