Green Fire

Folder: 
Satish Verma

When I need something. 
I will ask you. 
But I was never going― to need anything. 

From where this― 
armoury comes, trying to 
influence the vowels, from 
the clenched teeth? 

When I hold your hand, 
you start trembling. 
There was mist and 
there were walls. 

Are we drifting apart― 
in search of moons? 
Flesh for flesh, bone for bone? You 
swim fast, I track on the land.