HAND GLOVES

today i am not one whole, placid; 
blood streaked globe of full moon 
was hovering over me all night 
to freeze a ruined landscape, i was 
not ready for the departure, untying 
the knots of water, like the storm opening 
the mouth of a hidden cave in a deep sea, 
there was anything unsaid between us, 
a new verb joining strange nouns, the lips 
swimming in coral tears, amid the frail 
words of assaults and wounds of fractured 
signatures; in the end are left only the orbits

Satish Verma