To Full Moon

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Sometimes, 
you let it go, 
the uneven fall of the tempest. 

Which body, 
would you turn on, 
now; after inhaling― 

the jessamines? An 
overpowering instinct, 
takes hold of you― 

to death wish. I want 
to make you sit 
before me and ask― 

why have you fallen 
in love with a 
fireball. A hidden mystery― 

unflolds now. We knew 
each other’s gift 
of summer, hurting without knowing.