satishverma

THE WALLS

A green smoke was rising 
to ferret out 
the elusive pain 
without body. 

I went in search of 
fidgety words 
to patch up the conflicts 
of flesh. 

Bold as Passiflora, 
Crucifixion was complete. 
Today a gift of obeyance 
will arrive. 

It was a fake. 
The eyes on the hump. 
Camel has to cross 
a steep desert.

Satish Verma