Satish Verma

A wreath of skulls 
you want to hang on the wall. 

I don't want to 
lose the skin. 
The land was bleeding. 

Mars mission. A very 
lonely flight, pulls me down. 

Do you have a 
pearl knife? 
Small talisman, you used to wear 
when you were a child 
to ward off the evil spirits. 

A buttonless chest. The map 
you drew on the torso was tense. 
The woods were nowhere. Only 
the dry sands. 

I wanted to make a slit in the stone, 
to release the holy water, 
but it was only tears―