GEOMETRY

You catch what was convenient 
for age of denial. The exit. 
Not being for nothing, 
a better half of a belief. 

Dependence was increasing 
on wounds inflicted on others. 


I stop at the mid of road 
to turn or not to turn. 
For the lost parapharases of existence. 

The myth of amorality 
was getting a new title. I close 
a chapter of non-committance, 
walk along a wheel chair. 

I am not limbs, not topless. 
The toes are prodding on a green vein!

Satish Verma