Tropos
The exorcists were taking him
to pyre,
after eating the pollens,
the pistils,
columns of culture,
rosettes of centuries,
collapsed tropes.
Solid thorns were piercing the eyes
to cleanse the vision
of color-blinds.
It was the morphed sex
of a virgin goddess
humming to cool
the hot caresses.
Arousal of sleeping dragons,
promiscuity,
wood roses,
proactive subjects popping up,
which was it, besides bread and butter,
beds, only beds?
A semi-boiled love?
SATISH VERMA
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