The Calling

Beneath the bulge of your eyes

lays the yearning for his face

and on it lingers the reflection

of the moon to whom you recount.

At the corner his oceanic eyes

stand the waves, thirsty for you

that soon would flood the shore

because your moon bestrews

the ocean with all your epistles

inducing the waves to rush

until he reaches you,

until you hear his screech.

-Kritika Vashist

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