Sulking
The promised apple I did not eat.
The red skin started bleeding
in my palm. Butterfly flesh
was unable to glide.
Two round, intense eyes were chasing me.
A namesake volcano
bursts open in my chest,
then I notice the flowing lava
from hungry eggs.
The earth will not conceive again.
In the backyard a blue jay
was waiting for the golden seed.
I suck a fatal tweak
in the sundrunk green.
Thirsting for the logic will never the unmade.
SATISH VERMA
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