Downward SpiralA Poem by Satish VermaDownward Spiral
Like pine needles,
you prick, draw blood― doing the beauty. Between an angel and angelina, there stood a wall. Ah! A religion also. You are asked to smear the bone ash on forehead, and drink moonlight. Cannibals. All the gods were cannibals, devouring their progeny. You turn back and give a last glance before going for a faux pas. Not a heartache― for a faun, you were too proud to accept the gift. © 2021 Satish Verma |
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