SCHISM

Folder: 
Satish Verma

After being robbed 
you want to hide your 
poverty, like sex. 
Someone is going to flaunt 
the kisses of moon. 

The sinking of twin islands 
in lake begins. Claspers 
were poised to hold on the tree- 
house. The privacy was 
threatened. Nobody will conceive tonight. 

The erotica wins, temple fails. 
A lone wolf smells the wind, 
invades the obscene closet of 
a god to find locusts 
riding on each other devouring 
one's own.