The Flicker

Tonight, my beloved, your eyes
Are no more a succour,
What is aflame inside your bosom?

The same smouldering clod?
Which in vain you tried to wipe off
Off your forehead!

Why is it then your hands are so cold?
Your arms too, is that the stars, far & many?
Hold my hand, it is a lump of ice, did you know?

I just wiped the moon off, from my window pane,
It was too cold and deathly white, like a widow,
Did you kill the groom, is that the bridal dress?

What is the black smoke, where is the halo?
Don’t go out, I need this flame
My hand, it is a lump of ice, you now know!

And your flowing arms are too cold,
Come hither, let me wrap my skin
Around you, but it is a damp quilt!

Is it raining again, am I being flown away?
The beads shining on your bosom
Oh You! Mother of the rain

Give me your hand, my moist life
better this receding squeeze of my cold hand, 

Rather than the one aflame consuming you.

Please I cant stretch it further
Make a move.
Why are you such a silence?
What was that hiss I heard?