Head And TorsoA Poem by Satish VermaNothing-ness fills me again. Once visiting a funeral
Nothing-ness fills me
again. Once visiting a funeral home, a child asked me, why do the people die? How do I explain the dark side of life? A blunt trauma, makes me jaded. One collapsing process creates the black hole. A nude, the tall figure, stands on the rock, much venerated, and you cannot take off the eyes, deciphering the skin. In the intense pain of― learning, a fantasy of looking out at a ghost deity in the vegetable, springs a miracle. © 2016 Satish Verma |
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