It was a slant love.
Back to back,
lips to lips.
Lethal and dark
strong yet delicate
like spider’s web.
A dark side of the moon
sending conflicting
signals to bacilli-
of dirty lane, pink
and blue. My pug
licks the toes.
The pugmark on
green body. I am now
flowering. Hydrangeas.
•
The primrose half-asleep
Calendula was burning
in veins.
Unisex. The clenched
fist of a desire. I will
not accept a half-lip.
The chaste tree was sending
a bouquet of
steaming pistils.
Where the sun will sleep
tonight? Till the love-making
was over on tangerines.
The loose skin now
invites the red ants, crawling,
wearing your nails.
Satish Verma
