Satish Verma

An acid dropp burns your lips, 
dares you to question 
the continuity of crossroads. 
Nowhere you reach. 

A burden to accept 
the gratitude of a cactus 
for permission to bloom 
in starless night. 

The perversity prevails over the body. 
You strip to the bone 
and start a blue fire 
in the valley of denials. 

The skill breaks the terrible wall. 
Unlike a paperweight you bend 
a clean argument 
and climb on the stings.