Strange Echoes

Satish Verma

a kiss 
on lips, returns with a blunt style, 
in perfumed demeanor! 

i did not hear 
with absolute eyes, a captive 
in chained feet, for self-defence; 

all the shades of red 
were walking on ocean, 
a black skull glides: 

the night fills in pores- 
the gale, kills the black bucks, 
poachers were on run! 

in telling, the wizard 
entices, you will never know 
full toll of civil war: 

he turns down a gift of speech; 
words and whistles were surreal echoes 
and I see a sword like nose