satishverma

GOLD-TIPPED

At that time 
I was thinking something else 
when you gave me a half-kiss, 
my winter naked moon. 

A souvenir left by sun 
for the sake of night. I remembered 
pink roses 
unpetaling green thighs- 

for quest of shelter in civil war 
of reminiscences.Merciful was the landslide 
which buried the whispers of 
dead dreams. 

Unpretending, unleaping, the ocean 
sucks the grief of clouds. The 
rains have started a dance 
for the suicidal gods.

Satish Verma