By Drooping Lids

Satish Verma

There was no ending
in sight. You were not
a participant in―
my sadness.

Some unseen pain
hovers around me. I return to
my surface tension, trying
to minimize my fragility.

And injuries tend to
expand in caves of black
lights. Wild thoughts invade the

I unleash the words
like pigeons to fly to their homes.
I will not play―
hide and seek.

Waist up, you seek
godliness, wearing a veil,
when only your eyes were
visible, ruthlessly dry.