Suckers of an octopus arm 
like ziplocks 
around a bleeding artifact, 
for signature erase 
on shared bed. 

Few oily drops 
simmer down 
from the wheels, 
the raging grief of the centuries. 

Arrival had been delayed 
of charred remains 
of toxic news. 
Repair of the ozone layer was garlanded 
as a birthday gift. 

I did not want the variety of answers. 
Snakes and lizards have entered 
into the skins of dark men. 
You kill a snake, 
a bruise comes on the face of the moon.

Satish Verma


  • baj-a

    what a powerful and poignant write! exceptional work here! that last line is very strong and emotional. well written!

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