Nothing was beholden.
Colony counts were perfect.
You were never guaranteed and exit.
I am stalked by lips
of a black tulip holding
a moonbeam.
The world moves
wearing a shell of emptiness
in a cosmos, inviolable.
Aggrandizement
beyond the bluffing.
More beliefs and many withdrawls.
You will not kill me?
Half-way to soothing words
of ecstasy.
Satish Verma
