Under The Holiness Poem by Satish Verma
Under The Holiness
Rating: ★5.0
You will demonise to
remove the grief. Keep yourself
with lotus. I'm knitting a new moon.
To disengage, don't go
too far. Can you drink your own venom?
Too pure. Voiceless. Catching red flames?
The imperial pain. You
gather the pine needles and lay on the
hands to feel the collective bites.
Wednesday, June 1, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: grief
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8/25/2026 4:04:40 PM # rel_20260825T124344Z_022792b
