The Silence of Eternal Flame
you were stealing me from myself
my mitochondria, a little under the name,
while I was unmoored, talking to a mirror
who did not recognize me, caked in heat and dust
touching my tissues and blood
under the ignited roof of the tower,
walking with crutches to wipe the tears,
religion, open pyres, I am still stained
near a lantana thicket, amorous, talking
to death, pirates grabbing the winds,
migration of a whole waxed population
in black air
stalkers have a corrugated mind and
serial killers a mournful voice
SATISH VERMA
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
