Poetry

Unrepenting you start
from a sore point
to ask an explanation
from an eclipse of the sun.

unreviving,
a corpse, the moon carries the burden
of light, on its bloodied shoulder
for burial in dew.

Half the century we were
reciting the prayers to open
a blocked artery of a dying god
who would not share our bandages.

The bride steps out
from dark,
unveiled, and undoes the hairs.
There was fire in her eyes
and ice on her lips.

Satish Verma