EGOCENTRIC WIND

The matrix drinks the words, 
in the anonymity of opaque meanings. 
Heart slips a flutter, 
to catch the unborn tomorrow. 
The deep azure measures the depth, the fear, 
drowning the architect, 
generic of doom. 

A dropp floats in an ocean of solitude, 
a static milieu which has no quivering of its own. 
The roots always give pain. 
Your eyes are filled with tears. 
Now final image 
was a memoir of falling leaves. 

The dark effect splinters, 
into many seeds. 
The space widens between us in a 
hush of loneliness. 
Egocentric wind scrapes our bones.

Satish Verma