31 October, 2022

My Holy Mistakes

The Moon was disappearing
like a runaway. How much you
will take in from my last words?

I was not wrong, seeking
emancipation from your chains. No
grievance. I will not look from your eyes.

O god, the weather is uneasy.
I wanted the sun to come out of the water.
The night was chasing me.

Satish Verma

No comments: