Colloquy
Will you wait for me
till the moon parts the clouds
and the lake looks serene ?
A reticent encounter;
I want to speak through-
silence. A shadow play will do.
Mystic nights weave-
a conspiracy. The insects
hover like words.
A lamp ? No I will
burn my bridges to illuminate
the river.
Between the math-
and a story lies
the bloody corpse.
Satish Verma
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