Tracking

To stay put without a trace of hurt, I have come back to you. When, halfway, the perception falls off, like landing of a dragonfly. Tilting moon will tell you the secret of the scar. Those tiny irises come alive when tears start melting in your eyes. A tiger moth will ask why the pistil was blind ? I was waiting, crawling, among the honeybees. To find the dawn in the sleeping night. An absurd dragging of the summer, when chill was around. Satish Verma.