ANONYMOUSLY

You want to cover
the great distance,
between you and lost innocence.

The imploded silence
will speak of
great murders.

I was going down-
the stairs,
to dig out the skeletons-

from the latched, oak
chest. The empty drawers
had the imprints of fallen ancestors.

Soon the eyes will
swell, with salt of
a frozen sea.

Satish Verma