Poezja

Like a stingray it stung me tonight
the new moon.
A live flame lobbing the sparks.

The seduction had bypassed
the sleezy love
of white egrets.

When are you going
to make a history
by failing to fall?

Can I touch your blue veins
my moon?
They had been aching to step out.

When beast and passion
meet in the blue-faced sky
you start a belly dance.


Satish Verma