Scouring

Like a bee,
you wanted to land―
on the snapdragon’s,
curved lip.

Light years away―
a mouth gapes open;
you will not,
walk in.

A wrenching search,
for a home, where
you will not find
the violence.

A wax palace, you
are invited to live in.
The dummies, abound,
without backbones.

Satish Verma