Deception
I am giving you up
for a delusion-
of being watched all the time.
The retrieval of a poem
must start now.
A mannequin was defiled at dawn.
The puppets on a string
were dancing whole night-
for a born loser.
A lemon without an escort
has become a tree.
A living corpse, after
the acid attack. Give me some
water to wet the lips. I am
going to confess all the
sins of a weak man.
Let there be a face-off
between a river and a bridge.
Satish Verma
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