THE FORKED TONGUES

The family evolved from 
virtue to virtual image. 
I wanted to exhume the body of truth. 

Half-way we went to the moon, 
half-naked was the bluff. 
No choosing, no judging helped. 

I saw the fear in eyes. 
You found the inside was out 
behind the words overnight. 

The fountains were dressed up in neon, 
something new was in air, 
the forked tongues were hissing an arrival. 

Cupped mirrors were reflecting the lure 
of the city. Thirst was absent. 
It was hunger in the heart. 

You face had a bleak shade 
Darkness? I hide my scent. 
Snakes were visible in the bush!

Satish Verma