Satish Verma
Assaying
Sailing,
triangulating the body.
I will not come for the false blues.
You dig out the bones-
to evaluate the sickle,
that failed to trim the dark.
The murder was clean.
A religion lies beheaded.
Anaerobic, the poem survived.
The animal smell,
stays.Overpowers the limbs.
You run blindfolded.
The crickets emit an omen.
A sulfur burns.
The yellow sun was rising.
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