Black Woods

Satish Verma

The hanged girls, 
Or the slit throats? 
What your antennae are sensing? 

Unlifting the veil, 
why were you rubbing the 
stones in dark? 

Absent seizures. 
You blink only, without 
any response. 

Print your body on the 
canvas, with cracked 

The cities are burning. 
Throw the nets in the 
river. You may 
catch a prophet.