A frame
lifts the skirt of a portrait
and throws her genitalia
on your face.
A twin blast has taken place.
Why did you stand for
eclecticism?
The fables will miss you
and blue horse
will not return home.
The naked feet
will roam on grass, when
shoes will ask;
what is the miracle?
It happens once a while.
Reified the colors into pink
thighs – for every word,
cubics
stood undressed.
Now the table waits for you.
Satish Verma
