Satish Verma
Walking Small Feet
Distrust prevails.
To be poor. Why did you need
less, than you want?
I will ask me, and get no
answer. Like hedgehog. Spiny
coat. You will not watch―
the thought coming. I do
not move. The dead horse
speaks of moments of stillness.
A perception cleaves the mind.
The world takes revenge
behind the glass. You were―
squirming in the vessel. What
was your name, among the
stumps? A cloudburst, wipes
out the deity. The walls
stand out in the death masks.
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