A Killing

Satish Verma

Buried at sea 
the dead man lives, as if a blood 
in a reliquary. 

Remains of a day 
were very volatile.The backlash 
will start with a kiss of moon. 

By the lack of a sin 
you meet an ambush 
lying in wait. 

The severed hand will 
hold the sunrise. 
Who will write the epitaph? 

A stunning breast, over your 
reflection, the red rains 
come for celebration.