WHAT ENDING

In your limpid eyes
a pacifism slumps.
All I could say was, wrong sex
was ending in ice.

Dark energy: we were not expanding
Lies galore : we were casting
off our skins. I will not seek
afterlife. The hand carries the old coat.

Retrodiction. Don't want to shed
the charm. Waited for the change
which never came. Chicken,
wearing love, no bones.

Latest navel show. Walking on
ramp. Aphrodiasiac for the dangling
egos. Let us go for a
collective suicide.

Satish Verma