Make Believing
Unstitched, you visit
my navel, without
warning. There were
bloody stains. I made
no surrender. The bullet
went very deep.
Sovereignty was at stake.
I sit like Buddha
under a raging moon –
invoking the spirits. An
irreverence bites me, scares
me to the bones.
Glitch. I lost the vision.
The nude version was
very pure, very sane.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment