An Ocean Speaks

On my tongue and
skin, your salt burns.

My anxiety brings
the moon to become a witness
on eleventh day of fasting.

Renunciation had failed.
Clay soldiers continue to fight
the dream ghosts.

The body goes back to―
untouched soul.
No language will describe
the kiss of death.

Unbroken thorns
will not give up. Catching your sleeves
they will beg you to come back.

An untainted candle
refuses to burn in the bed
of roses. You never knew, when
did you become water.

Satish Verma