satishverma

Creamy Swipes

The virgin moon 
and young lover― 
talking in hushed tones. 

The speed was the 
limit of suspended 
economy of wood pecking. 

Sap suckers abound 
on the pretext of exploring 
the depth of resistance. 

My bones were your 
enemy, your flesh was 
my temple. 

I will bring daffodils 
when sun sits 
and night falls.