Sulking

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The promised apple I did not eat. 

The red skin started bleeding 
in my palm. Butterfly flesh 
was unable to glide. 

Two round, intense eyes were chasing me. 

A namesake volcano 
bursts open in my chest, 
then I notice the flowing lava 
from hungry eggs. 

The earth will not conceive again. 

In the backyard a blue jay 
was waiting for the golden seed. 
I suck a fatal tweak 
in the sundrunk green. 

Thirsting for the logic will never the unmade.

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