Creamy SwipesA Poem by Satish VermaThe virgin moon and young lover
The virgin moon
and young lover― talking in hushed tones. The speed was the limit of suspended economy of wood pecking. Sap suckers abound on the pretext of exploring the depth of resistance. My bones were your enemy, your flesh was my temple. I will bring daffodils when sun sits and night falls. © 2020 Satish Verma |
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