Poetry

Satish Verma


older other poems newer

21 may 2022

After The Execution

Just wanted to be
myself today, ripped after
the apocalypse―

of stainless bodies.
You pull down the era of
earthen lamps from ruins.

Give me a wrapped
guilt. I am a boat in water
without wooden oars.

Black eyes stitched
to dolls. They were going to
wed the white gods.

A knife's cult invokes
the barren cave. You had planted
the severed heads.






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