seething yet silent in land of outrage:
strictures of life,
my eyes will not see the setting sun;
this was the blind spot
before the battle starts
and spine turns into ramrod in hot sun –
to speak the version of domestic grief
without lips because the death does not come alone,
she has a company
of corpses swelling the earth but she also
plays piano with two fingers only
pouring out milk and venom
for a long journey, we start unprepared
I will not fall asleep
Satish Verma