WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Sky weeps, I was collecting clouds 
from stillness of the sea. 
A snake again wants to kiss, 
I am learning to die 
in arms of spiral mirrors. 

Cannot forgot the cheating of umbrellas. 
The stings, the twists, the hollow breads. 
Foams are submitting the venoms 
on golden plates. 
I grieve for the dignity of a hangman. 

The retreat leaves the blood 
on the stones. My house was burning. 
Will you marry me? I ask the dew 
sitting on the grass. Don't go 
back to the sun. 

A relentless bucket fills up, again 
I am watching at the moon. 
The icy sand, the fire, the heat. 
Flowers will hunt the thorns 
at rooftops of sleep.

Satish Verma