Beyond Words

Satish Verma

Skinned alive, as 
an aftermath of speaking 
against the unhinged 
blue gods. 

Like cacti: growing 
straight towards the sky 
exploring the questions, 
you open a can of paint. 

The secret spills. In 
happenings, you will find 
some poems, written 
for tribes of flowers. 

The colors sings at the 
feast of tearfalls.