Satish Verma

In memoirs, 
I send you my poems, 
from this insane world. 
You can hurt me again. 

Like a stone 
of an unknown, I will 
wait for you, for a potency 
climb to understand the resurrection. 

Life will extract its price 
from you when you 
are passing through a burning 
heap of skeletons. 

Your unending romp was 
over. Night was getting ready 
to wear a ceremonial gown at 
the wedding of the genius loci. 

Moon starts licking his wounds.