satishverma

INTROSPECTION

Living against the food amnesia 
gold bricks call for austerity 
in passage of the hunger. 

Canons hanging in their necks 
it was the silence of death. 
Whispers were floating in night. 

The bodies will free us from 
gold cure, tasting the forbidden salt 
of stale lead of spices. 

We will forget the color of lips 
when you cry. Time falls 
like a dead sparrow on faithless head. 

When you hold a hollyhock 
I look at the crescent moon 
who was taking a shower after disrobing.

Satish Verma