R.K.SINGH: Indian English Poet: July 2017

The tenuity of her story
is like hearing
my own confession.
Without the priest I wonder
if I know my own voice.

July 29 ,2017

* Greeting the first rains after months of soaring heat the lone rose flutters little petals to the ground echoing our first embrace * Is it her quietus that she roars in herself like a sea waves upon waves leaps upon herself? * Before the foamy water could sting her vulva a jellyfish passed through the crotch making her shy — the sea whispered a new song * The power goes off suddenly summer heat chokes in bed sleepless she turns undoing a hook or two of her tight bra *** The bamboo garden we picknicked and made love in is now all concrete — managing environment and pollution control
R. K. SINGH