Poem On Paper Lips

Deep footprints are not
visible. You will not say
anything else.

Night begins to fall
heavily. The wholeness, was
breaking the moon. I feel the
slaps of wind.

Throes of time, take revenge.
Was there any difference
between essence and substance?
The marrow will eat the bone.

Between dot and dashes
I have left long pauses to understand
unbroken lines.

Marigolds at the feet
of foetal stones unturned.
You can carry the legacy
of unsung sun, and small daisies.

Satish Verma