Hoisting

A fledged reincarnation starts a carnage before the scared skull, ribs were missing from the pink wraps. Eye over eye opens a split vision, to live in a shirtless thoughts, to kill where the truth was. An accidental lover hovers over the green breasts, full of secret grief. All the birds on the lake have surrendered the sun’s light to extinguished nests and flown away. The pain of yesterday now, will haunt the bride of moon who had to abandon the baby in mud to be watched by wolves of garlanded priests. The tear was me, subway was me. The skin was changing colour, camouflaged for shame and guilt, pleading a glimpse of fire. SATISH VERMA