No Negativity

The virgin blue lake
calls the flying seagulls. It was very
deep, but less than the pain of a poet.

The water leaps to
catch the moon. No dance of flames
to drink the hemlock of the love.

I have lost my appetite.
There are luminous gems on my
smoking hands. I will swallow the sun.

The poet is in pain. Love is painful. Love lorn the poet swallows burning pain.

Rajendra Singh Baisthakur , Nellore, AP, 524003