Melting Points

To sell the half-truths―
of lies, you quit
the post to live with Stonehenges.

Assembling another
dream. I rearrange the thoughts
to save the trembling planet.

Sleepover very discreetly
with me. Find out, how
my flesh has turned into gold dust.

Some wee moments,
chase after you, to become immortal
with each poem.

O life, read me.
I want to go quietly,
climbing down in waters of blue lake.

That was not worth it.
To wait under the moon
for a Cleopatra, who would
not carry asp vipers.

Satish Verma