Satish Verma

Waiting for the unwaiting 
to appear. The green pigeons 
will reduce the palace to rubble. 

Could it be like― the 
first man to die has become 
a savior? 

I hold your tender 
face in my hands to 
read the axioms. 

Mumbling something― 
Inaudible, I will address, 
the upright past. 

An unborn love child 
Kicks at the walls of the womb. 
It was time to see the world.