In Sleep

A cult of sound without lips was growing. The veil had staked its claim. Staying myself I thought I will become you ; there would be a lured kill ! Moaning inside, a wave has ruffled the sea. Serpent of moon quakes the shore. Death was worthy of a kiss. A gull flies away with glassy wings. Rediscovering a beehive, honey of the immaculate queen, between the breasts lies a rival, I do not drag out the rainbow, I have lost the will to trap the blue-fish. We are distancing. A saddest tree drops the seed in abyss, blackened, somebody buries it inside a wall. The stones have no option, up to neck the opacity runs. SATISH VERMA