Manoeuvre


An acid droop burns your lips,
dares you to question
the continuity of crossroads.
Nowhere you reach.

A burden to accept
the gratitude of a cactus
for permission to bloom
in starless night.

The perversity prevails over the body.
You strip to the bone
and start a blue fire
in the valley of denials.

The skill breaks the terrible wall.
Unlike a paperweight you bend
a clean argument
and climb on the stings.

Submitted by Satish Verma.

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