Listening Unheard Voices

Satish Verma

The leaning neck 
of the moon, getting 
intimate with 
a tall pine. 

a protégé, without touching 
the essentials. 

Somebody waits for your 
footfalls. Somebody 
loves you without telling. 

Like sensory pits 
of a viper. I smell 
your heat. 

The swaying hips 
of downing night. 
Sun was rising.