26 July, 2016

Short Melody

It had touched, the wind
of sky.

The viola goes―
pansexual.

Purple, blue and white
dog violet,
one of the petal was
landing gear for politics.

A fugitive poet
grumbles, eating the dark words.

After suicide, the viscera
was found blank, except
the half-eaten plums.

Satish Verma

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