Satish Verma


Short Melody


It had touched, the wind
of sky.
 
The viola goes―
pansexual.
 
Purple, blue and white
dog violet,
one of the petal was
landing gear for politics.
 
A fugitive poet
grumbles, eating the dark words.
 
After suicide, the viscera
was found blank, except
the half-eaten plums.



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