Mannerism

Bigotry, is that you with
the lost numbers?

Looking back, will not
light the road.

I could not haul myself
out, of the kitchen, of narrative.

Something makes me jittery,
counting my failures. You revert back
to the caravan.

After the love. The lines
burn and you set aside the goal―

of becoming free from writing off
the man.

Satish Verma