Paper Thin

Tearing up,
the revised versions.
Wall was rising.

Invisible,
like the unconceived
terror.

Half-eaten space,
the man wants to
hide the holiness.

The final leap, 
for the hips, the lips 
for the dive.

The bloodied
paperweight, which smasthed
the skull of a bald deity.

The arguments, that
kill the path, a 
gift of sky.


Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Pettit Avatar
February 14, 2014 at 11:10 AM
An interesting write. One correction is needed: replace "unconceived" (not a word) with "inconceivable".
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