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

This was a shock treatment. Becoming friends

The moon titled her head and went inarticulate

It insults the─ primitivism. Hypothermia, you

A fugitive moon appeared, after the blaze of the sun,

It returns to haunt, the dilemma, of disowning

Burning rocks had a near miss. The

Be tender, with me― in midstream.

As I come, for molarity without molars

The mess you made, was apocalyptic.

The rocks in water like words, between the tears.