EVERLASTING

A name breaks on the tip 
of a pen. 
Like a wildflower after a 
violet end. 

The yellow stripes will 
enter the past, 
retracing the path 
of failures. 

I pick up a broken thread 
to weave a shade of blue flag 
to open under the weight 
of a guilt. 

A cluster of doorknobs. 
I retrieve my future 
to lock the death 
in erotica.

Satish Verma