03 May, 2016

Counting The Steps

When saline drowns the lips,
my words tremble.

Almost I stumble upon
the fish house spilling the vertebrates.

I had given them, the name
to the swirling limbless thoughts.

One by one they come on the edge
and blow the ashes, towards me.

You always dream of a procession
of dead bodies under the window.

In the little study, you are
afraid of leaning walls.

And you say you were responsible
and to be held accountable.


Satish Verma

No comments: