No Hatred

Step aside.
Tension of mining gold
barrels through
mating preference.

The shadows under the
eyes were lengthening.
A childhood alley had―
the cul-de-sac.

A face trembles in your
hands when you kiss
the tears of a melting peak.
The body collects the honey.

A sleeping moon drifts
like a fallen virgin,
covering the face in the headscarf
of brazen clouds.

Satish Verma