Satish Verma

You open me up 
like an envelope without 
a knife. No blood spills. 

Like arriving from Auschwitz, 
you embrace all my skins, 
my incompleteness. 

I would know, you 
are coming down from the 
attic to meet the unknown stranger. 

Goosefoots. You are 
crawling, hugging the remorse-
a clear submission anonymously. 

Wrapped up, I give 
you my heart, still throbbing 
without the rib cage. The 
night brings the red moon.