12 January, 2013

GREEN CIRCLE

You are peeling me off
like a crab.
Time has sunk very low.

For the hungry kids
who was growing crab apples?

Creating art,
arriving between the pubes.

A microfossil
roosting within me.
I could live without oxygen.

Incandescent,
the liquid wounds.
I will not send any salvo.

Satish Verma

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