COUPLING

In the tiny truths behind the hidden 
words and blood streaked cheeks, you 
drink ozone in deep layers. I will count 
all my sins and light the candles in a row. 

On the pillow of moon, night slept in half-slumber. 
I tendered an apology 
and wrote a new poem. It was not a rebuke 
of stars. 

This was my ad lib before the sun rise 
and roses opening the blood conversations 
with the grand stings. The wrapped hunger 
starts wailing.

Satish Verma