Poetry

A bruise- 
opens up again. 
Why you did not know, 
how to stop, in the blue night, 
under the shadow of 
god particles? 
 
A glimpse- 
of the naked form; 
the size, the shape, 
unsettles the script, the committed 
dogma. Why you were still 
unvisible, O glory? 
 
Absurdity- 
of the beliefs. 
Life becomes a peddeler. 
I don’t want to go to any bazaar 
now. A poem is good enough 
to move on.