satishverma

PERFECTION

Ashes: 
I was gathering blue light 
from your lynx-eyed vessel 
of death. 

Against terror 
blind-folded, shot in the head 
on road. 

Earth was your bed 
and a shimmering moon 
your pillow. 

It was apathy of gates 
of heaven. 
The mist grows heavy. 

Daring to bare 
the jugs of wine, 
body walks on edge.

Satish Verma