Author Information
The Absolute
Folder:
Satish Verma Keep me in the last
chapter of the book
you have not written.
Let the end come
of a story written on
the sands of time,
with handprints.
An old hill walks
to meet the river on fire.
When hands tremble
to tie the knot.
As I reach near
the sunset, a slice of moon
cuts my wrist, to let
the poem be born again.
A boneless assault,
a tearfull withdrawl.
How we will remember
the anniversary?
