Poetry

The world has shrunk.
Have sex in half-black
bipartisan calculations.

Ripping apart,
no body was naked
inside the costume.

I was too wakeful
under the ventilator.
They were killing me methodically.

It was theatrical.
White gowns and blue gowns.
Only miracle was nude.

This was an endless pit.
Young boys had learned
to rape.

Satish Verma