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The Forked Tongues
Folder:
Satish Verma The family evolved from
virtue to virtual image.
I wanted to exhume the body of truth.
Half-way we went to the moon,
half-naked was the bluff.
No choosing, no judging helped.
I saw the fear in eyes.
You found the inside was out
behind the words overnight.
The fountains were dressed up in neon,
something new was in air,
the forked tongues were hissing an arrival.
Cupped mirrors were reflecting the lure
of the city. Thirst was absent.
It was hunger in the heart.
You face had a bleak shade
Darkness? I hide my scent.
Snakes were visible in the bush!
