For the Clotting

seething yet silent in land of outrage: strictures of life, my eyes will not see the setting sun; this was the blind spot before the battle starts and spine turns into ramrod in hot sun – to speak the version of domestic grief without lips because the death does not come alone, she has a company of corpses swelling the earth but she also plays piano with two fingers only pouring out milk and venom for a long journey, we start unprepared I will not fall asleep SATISH VERMA