Words And PassagesA Poem by Satish VermaDefining the borders with guilds,
Defining the borders
with guilds, a body hangs on a rope mauled and fabled. I am making a fool of myself to find your hand. Watching the world upside down, the ailing Buddha" was dying. I don't own the day. Tomorrow will not remain yours. © 2017 Satish Verma |
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