Without Eye Contact

Before the sun dies,
I want to see you.

About destiny, with your
unopened smile, in
a painless encounter.

In search of a wizard,
who can guide us to the―
white, crisp honesty.

What was indestructible?
You will not utter any word.
I will ask the shadow of moon.

A cool river flows in my
pulse to meet the sea of
yellow roses of your eyes.

The wood and ashes
meet without fire. Was it
the end of relics of our knives?

Blood and bone marrow will
never marry.

Satish Verma