07 December, 2022

Where the Sun Goes?

The rain was knocking
at the door. I was waiting for your
occult arrival for beheading of the roses.

It was a gradual descent
without fall. I heard the silence of
fusion of opposites. Ultimately we melted.

I love someone who can invoke
Agni and water for a lied one on the pyre
for the sale of a god who will not come.

Satish Verma

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