Clinging To Hope

Satish Verma

Revealing id, 
without ego, and hunger. 

I may not touch 
you ever, placing my palm 
down face on the burning candle. 

Step by step I come 
near you and move away 
collecting my pins. 

The medallion still hangs 
in the cleavage. 

You will throw your head 
backward and laugh in misty chimes. 

The skiagram shows the increased 
vascularity. Would you come 
if I don't call you? 

We will smell together 
the parting lips, trying to say 
love, but unannounced.