Silent Complaints

Folder: 
Satish Verma

To remain normal― 
how difficult it was. To undo 
what had not been done. 

A pinch of salt was 
needed to taste your skin. 
Belief will come later. 

My unearthly lover, the 
moon was becoming physical 
sending me a lipless song. 

Once upon a pain, 
I had asked you to be, what 
you were― my rival. 

The uncanny fear, wins 
over the whispers― when it 
appears stark naked.