GREEN PASTURES

in lunatic scape of 
fringed labellum 
the creeping malignancy was advancing. 
i missed a rendezvous with moon 
when you had brought a blue kiss 
from abducted lips; 
again I become a sisypus 
lifting the rock off your comets 
of round tangerines. 

something was missing from our parched 
lilies, this teaching was hurting, in our maniac depression 
tampering with our melting, 
the body had left the golden leash, 
the first liberation from nagging pain of verbs 
the noun moved farther than silent classics 
shadows in between 
the fatalities

Satish Verma