Satish Verma
PERFECTION
Ashes:
I was gathering blue light
from your lynx-eyed vessel
of death.
Against terror
blind-folded, shot in the head
on road.
Earth was your bed
and a shimmering moon
your pillow.
It was apathy of gates
of heaven.
The mist grows heavy.
Daring to bare
the jugs of wine,
body walks on edge.
Satish Verma
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