Forked Tongues

Satish Verma

‘Twas your ghost 
to secure the promise, 
that you would not commit 
yourself to the story. 

An island sin 
confronts the sea 
of tears. Was it an 
emotional kill? 

Did you hear the 
sound of moon? It has 
come down in the space 
where we used to cross the arms. 

That was my raw poem. 
I had mentioned your solemn 
departure. I don't believe 
in blaspheme. God would know. 

Fever for no misdemeanor. 
We walk away on our 
different paths.

allets's picture

Mellow Mellow Mellow

"different paths" is a theme for me this year - good one, slc