Satish Verma > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

I will meet the moon on the terrace,

I will not elaborate, what I mean.

The credibility of an apple

A breast bomb, makes a sudden lunge-

To blunt the offence of beautiful pain

How difficult it was to remain a simple truth,

After sitting in dark through the black smiles,

In the humid night there was a circularity

Pushed aside and sequestered, like a

It is over. The curtain falls. I have come to settle―