CURVATURE

The visible was most 
invisible. 

Watching the moon 
through veil. 

A bomb explodes 
in your hands. 
The poem wavers- 

and then falls on dew. 

This was not bone-green; 
original, 
not a fake cloud – 

to kiss the feet 
of a burning god. 

It was natural conjugation 
between enemies.

Satish Verma