Author Information
The Perspective Fault
Folder:
Satish Verma With a live moon between―
us, you were staring beyond me
in blank looks.
Shackled, you hang―
from the past praises.
In a crematorium you will now spend
a night with some noises
in penitence.
You have to come out from
the old scripture and invent
a new libretto.
No breathing room was left
in the crowd. Would you
become a little wee taller?
Meanwhile I will listen to bird songs.
