Flying The NamesA Poem by Satish VermaFlying The Names
There was no raised
plaque. Rituals of resuscitation had failed. Something to lift from your paintings. I wanted everything of you. Not touching the death cookies. I prepare myself to witness the― bread breaking. There were no tears, no pangs. No agony. Peace. Was it true that you were no more you whom I gave my vision― my lungs, my pen. Were you jinxed? I would never know. © 2021 Satish Verma |
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