Satish Verma

eyes will chew the words 
i will not see all day along, do you hear 
my thoughts in the icicles of flames, my bones 
jutting out of knuckles, 
i will go to memory lane once again: 

where the stale smell of yellow pages 
throws up invisible thighs groping for support 
climbing in vain, 
half moon floating on lake of tears 
in fire of dark night – 

drenched, he was escaping without legs 
in white darkness of unaddressed pain, 
sorrow of locked shame ….. 
victim of blisters on blasting flesh, 
knees give way, 

what was the date of surrender, 
i was meditating on the ashes of serpents 
beneath the ocean of protests in voyage 
of solitude, as your lips quiver 
in resilience of benign submission