Once- Over

Walking in sleep
to find the color of moon,
I watch the space
widening
between your red lips.

I had once
asked you to trim
the eyebrows
like a bow.
So that you can
kill a bird
in flight.

Measuring
eternity was easier.
Not the depth
of your eyes.
A curved strike
was sufficient
to revive a wound
of old mantra.

Satish Verma