Your Dress Code

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Coming back with 
nipples and fangs, all 
the black visions. 

Those lunging at the 
helpless prey, a hundred arms, 
pythonic- to squeeze 
the life out of 
the rising voice. 

You were my trust, 
my secret, then why this 
curse, 
of your signs, your signature, 
your face? 

You were me, I was you. 
We were not different, I open 
my chest to receive the bullets 
the stone, the stick. 

The words.They swim 
like dolphins, whistling 
crossing the horizons 
reaching beyond the colored dresses.