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Violets Under The Rocks
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Satish Verma You pray for deliverance
when the pause between
the words have some
meaning.
Moon sheds the light.
A fantasy takes a risk,
going too deep in for future.
You fumble with the right tone.
I ask you to come
slowly like a wounded tigress
for a final kill.
The silent howling
bends down to pick up the
red clover. Nobody wants to
be half-dead.
My immaculate faults glare.
The copperhead waits. I
am ready to take a kiss.
