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Untitled Oneness
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Satish Verma In stark unreality,
I start with a blank
page, unwritten― but
worth reading.
A breakthrough was
needed to rip apart
the lost manhood.
My obsession with you
is growing, who will not tell
why the temple exists
without a deity.
You adore sans words
and then hide between
the signs, like a misunderstanding.
The morgue doesn't have the bodies.
A renegade comes back
deprived of arms, to die
between your lips. The
wine was tasteless.
Let the muse live without a name.
