WHAT YOU SAID

Sperms spilled on thighs 
When moon was hung over trees 
To engage reverberations, 

Contesting erratic moods 
Outside echoes 
Stitching white milk into black tears, 

It was not for the deliverance 
From pain of separation 
And drink the eyes: 

The waves died in immensity 
Somewhere a dolphin dips in mind 
To pick up the music 

Of fences, separating ethos 
And gossips of terrified oceans 
Searching the sunken ship.

Satish Verma