IN SLEEP

A cult of sound without lips 
was growing. The veil had staked its claim. 
Staying myself I thought I will become 
you; there would be a lured kill! 

Moaning inside, a wave has ruffled 
the sea. Serpent of moon quakes the shore. 
Death was worthy of a kiss. A gull 
flies away with glassy wings. 

Rediscovering a beehive, honey of the 
immaculate queen, between the breasts lies 
a rival, I do not drag out the rainbow, I 
have lost the will to trap the blue-fish. 

We are distancing. A saddest tree drops 
the seed in abyss, blackened, somebody 
buries it inside a wall. The stones have 
no option, up to neck the opacity runs.

Satish Verma