CLAWING NIGHT

The waves crash at your threshold. 
You had given me lot of tears: 
I was dying in me- 

in veiled existence. I want to hear me 
loudly; my secret coming, 
across the book in black box. 
The androgynous deity 
limping back to shore. 

The claws, gnawing, stretching, giving 
arterial push to the dead thighs 
of ailing planet. First purple, then black 
gangrene appears on the toes. 

Chase of wealthy robes, spilling of sperms 
for sake of virility. The slicing of time 
gives dividend to survivors.

Satish Verma