A Killing

Buried at sea the dead man lives, as if a blood in a reliquary. Remains of a day were very volatile.The backlash will start with a kiss of moon. By the lack of a sin you meet an ambush lying in wait. The severed hand will hold the sunrise. Who will write the epitaph ? A stunning breast, over your reflection, the red rains come for celebration. Satish Verma UNREADABLE 4 May 2011 It was a fake time, moon will not rise. Words were afloat on junk dna. A stonefaced pseudonym dies point-blank. The surprise, the speed was not on our radar. The ravenous siblings now asleep on walls. Naive or disingenuous. A sitting Buddha will decide. Satish Verma