Eternal Drift

A hidden lump was revealed
in annual ritual.
You flung open the gates-

to take away the regal pain.
Was it a reprisal
for a purple nail?

Withdrawl was threatening.
In the line of fire
comes the guilt.

The suicide in the goddess
womb? Celebrate if
you pull out.

Floating on the drifting
threat. The welts will sing
the erotica.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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