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Satish Verma Again trying to forget
you, leaving behind the
loose ends in air. The descent
of Aerial begins.
A fairy― amongst the
gorgons. Like a soft poem
walking on burning coals.
I was always warning you.
Sometimes too much knowing
hurts. I want to become
ignorant of hovering dark clouds.
No light was the best option.
The stings, many of
them were closing in. The
cruel honey sticking to all
the toes. I cannot run.
Sowing the rounded seeds,
you don't get the poppies.
