At Risk

No story was left
between us. You will not
start any new event.

You sing the absolution
amidst the hails. I was not
ready to retaliate on two legs.

The vibrations reach the
sea. The waves prepare the
advance attack to pull down the sky.

Two small lips tremble.
Even the irises swell―
before the frost.

The naked dolls swim
before the moon rises. There
were no stars in sky.

Satish Verma