Hurting Myself

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The blue stare 
will stretch on the horizon. 

A princely moon 
enters the perforate shell― 

in the oviform eye, 
of the bruised lake. 

I was ready to drink 
the potion, the viper offers. 


Tears and laughter, the 
twin ecstasy of dying 

by hinged fangs.