Hoisting

Folder: 
Satish Verma

A fledged reincarnation starts a carnage 
before the scared skull, ribs were missing 
from the pink wraps. Eye over eye opens a split 

vision, to live in a shirtless thoughts, to kill 
where the truth was. An accidental lover hovers over 
the green breasts, full of secret grief. 

All the birds on the lake have surrendered 
the sun’s light to extinguished nests and flown away. 
The pain of yesterday now, will haunt the bride 

of moon who had to abandon the baby in mud 
to be watched by wolves of garlanded priests. 
The tear was me, subway was me. 

The skin was changing colour, camouflaged for 
shame and guilt, pleading a glimpse of fire.