Hepatica

by Satish Verma

Black livers?
Are you really desperate
after a vision? Miasma
rising?

A disheveled sky was
calculating. Tide was turning
back carrying the
tremors of shores.

Was that true, your faith
thinning? I see myself
getting ready for slanting moon
eating seeds of death.

It tears through
the veils of abstract. Are you
looking back at paralyzed
sun who has swallowed a stabile?

06-Mar-2013

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