Even the Planets

Pieces of day falling like severed limbs of time. Acoustic shadows drinking the pain. Exodus has started of thoughts to find an enabler, for misting voices of indecisiveness. Obscene contour abrupts the ink. Now there is blank depression, behind the globes. Cubes have become toeless. The night has locked itself in, when suddenly grief becomes the sun. The celestial makeup was melting. We are becoming naked, like pupils. Satish Verma