Disbelievingly

Fraternising 
the needles 
on abbreviated lips. 
Handful of sand 
hauling uphill. 

Code of particles 
feels the entire lie. 
You wear mauve 
when I cry. 

Like diatoms 
in eyes. 
Erase the sun 
from my hairs. 
I am turning black. 

The brine 
had encroached all around. 
The brown grass, the soaked laughter, 
but I will come again in disbelief.

Satish Verma