If moments are last, consider it rain lust,

vapours, circling through wet truth, dipping

in the silent alignment, clouded sky—

Long ago it used to grieve, for mourning

of haunting fears, of life and dreams that

deem so bright together, on the other side

of unknown sea, waves crushing in foil

of earthly mud, weary, gleam, flea, a sudden

flicker, all is gone nuts— birds are flapping

their fire wings, watching it roll in the grey

smoke, I tried to see— really hard— for

evoking the same first night, everything

in storm, surging in the idle arrest, should

I surrender thee? Tendering teared marks

clutched in raw flesh, in all burst of light—

I reflect the first night, foreign language

exchange in the wind blows, those hands

gesture died in forlorn waves, I wait for

the soul exile, wishing if it were ever mine!

— 31st March, 2024