No Revenge

Satish Verma

I pick up my choice 
of not accepting my defeat. 

The grades were falling. 
Yet my limbs move 
on fine grains of salt. 

I will write, blue names 
with chalk 
on the blackboard of― 

a teacherless life. 
The disasters had helped me 
to redefine the attachments. 

The jail-break was 
imminent Moon was coming 
out from the nemesias.