What Was Untouchable?

a poem by Satish Verma, India

Being set on fire
my fantasy, my vision.
Something that should not have happened.

Latched to heritage-
the touch of faith brings
sharp harpoons.

Not easy to forget
an elegy I made for unknown.
Will you come to throw the dust?

Cannot punish you
for my sins. A humming bird
crashed this noon on my deck.
A square face peeps from behind the tears.

September had been always
harsh. This month I had decided
to falter.

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