Flickering Curtain

Satish Verma

Circles under the eyes 
becoming darker― 
perforating the disaster 
of moons. 

The arcs will take a trajectory 
going nowhere. Cannot reconcile with the 
untouched depths of 

Not enough was night― 
rest, for death's pain. 
Faraway the toes will meet 
the pulse of glassy lake. 

Defiant brows will come in 
defence of the fight against tall 
lies. You want to act till 
the end of the play. 

I do not sleep. 
I do not move. 
Waiting for the bell to go.