Red LightA Poem by Satish VermaA maverick― neither tears, nor scabs
A maverick―
neither tears, nor scabs I wanted to cheat myself. Confection may go awry. I prepare the new text of wearing the pain. I want you to stay beside me, when I am unseated― holding the clouds. Discarding golden viscera. This was my last journey for taking revenge. Undulation over. There will be a vertical drop on the nails. On the black stones a fig tree wavers. © 2020 Satish Verma |
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