Sandpaper

let me start a * bid for the right to light the pyre of the bond; who would not believe, the benign bony fingers had written off the desires, from lips to hips may you go to find the sludge at the banks of fury at sunrise, I am making some adjustments with violence in mind, the human race was acting clumsier by skirting the tools of death and laughter, it had become a rage with tiny kids who were playing with bombs of hate, missed abortion of faith, a baked infertile baby opens the darkness with white teeth * A community ritual to perform the last rites of a jain monk. SATISH VERMA