Self-Effacement Poem by Satish Verma

Gender―
was becoming unborn, ―
untaught. Very fluid state.
You could transgress the boundaries
like the sea spreading over,
on your land.

My ankles giveaway. I cannot―
walk incognito. Moon will
not open the door. Nightshade welcomes
with open arms. A climber
with purple flower holds my hand.
I may stumble. Almost done―
disconnecting with present―
and past.

This is the sun. This is the
sky. Circumcising becomes an
escape, to cut off the bondage with yourself.