Like swapping your face for
a tormentor. Stop the rains.
I am going home, after
a hard choice of peace

in sunlight. Give me back my
memory. I want to take a
flight. Scanning the midnight
sun on blue lake.

Stairs are climbing on me.
Stay with me. I am falling
on your purple doves
eating blood oranges.

I am sad inside the stitched
eye. Clouds are breaking the
light. I will not come
for therapy from lies.

Satish Verma