Deeply Scarred

by Satish Verma

There was no sky over your
head. You sidestep the lake
and drown in a stream.

After carpet bombing of
scars, you missed the moon
and were skimmed by
virtue of birth.

Lifting the stony vices
for thanksgiving. A puppet
dies on a string. Nobody
claims the body.

Mistrust runs deep. You
will not ride the tiger
again. The urn contains the
ashes of blue eyes.

28-Sep-2015

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