Riveting

by Satish Verma

Absolutely sapped out
I will unfurl
my flag today.

It was a raw wound
of nuanced statements in dark
when the moon fell in lake.

Talking to butterflies
as I take on the genre
of brainstormed hibiscuses.

It rained again in my
courtyard, wetting the
marbles and my eyes.

Take away the roof from
over my head. I have
come to meet the frozen tears.

The enormous guilt now
haunts the vacant eyes, why I did not
accept the voluptuous breast of death.

28-May-2013

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