Smoking the Mirror

Talking to bougainvilleas, one day I will cut my tongue. Why the beautiful bracts were protecting the trivial seeds ? The flowers started clicking to deliver a white god to a black temple. Human shield was to avenge the enemy beyond the infinity. Below the ashes what were you trying to find out in dark ? The cancer ? It was eating away the vitals of an orphaned fruit. The predator had become the prey, drawing the sheet of blood on the moon. The birds were leaving the tree. Satish Verma