Poetry

Famelocked,
sometimes he was talking to flowers,
asking their names.

In the house
that never sleeps,
infidelity brings the charm.

Intense gravity
excoriates the crotch.
A supernova is born.

Worlds apart,
I am there,
where you were not.

A burnt-out wall and broken window
were left to tell the tale,
but door was still there shut.


Satish Verma