Unpouring Grief

Between you and me
there was no sound.
In oneness, I reached
your peaks.

It was a naked bloom
of jasmines. I smell the
duality. Would you come
for a rendezvous?

Pure as a glacier fall,
the silver-dark of moonless
night, I was waiting
for the ripples.

The bells, blue bells, start
echoing the cries. It was
not a kill. The invisible
was executed.

Satish Verma