WILL NOT FORGET

Flirting will broken bread
I taste a bitter truth.
I am entering into a stupor
from head to toe. The
intimate torture has begun.

Trying to locate the
dirt path back to
home. The bird watching
has come to an end.

The meaningless ailing
now bleeds from dark
orifices. I return back
your globe.

The river has changed
its course. It does not flow
by my home. I am planting
forget - me - not.

Satish Verma