You Are Seen Everywhere

Folder: 
Satish Verma

You will be in a poem.
Beheaded. I am not yet born.The
sinister hand refuses to pull me out.

Something breaks in me.
Sometimes I ask the flowers to sit on
ears and I will talk with narcissists.

Untitled my pain comes
again and again. I am let in the
light of rising moon to recall you.