Before the spill there was <br />soaring. And then anti-g. <br />I readied myself <br />for the ultimate fall. <br /> <br />This was the poetry of submission <br />sharing the pain of disillusionment. <br />Who was pretending of liberation <br />in a see-through heart? <br /> <br />This was the time when <br />you run amok <br />under pheromones of dead clones: <br />the drowned dreams. <br /> <br />Pelting stones at moon <br />we were made for each other.<br /><br />Satish Verma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/freaking-out-3/
