After The SunsetA Poem by Satish VermaNight was young. Shameless moon
Night was young.
Shameless moon wanted to talk to me. Will do what― I was not supposed to do, holding back the tears. We had killed ourselves with indelible scars for a puppet show. Reddish-yellow rind of bloody orange in the eyes of severed head. © 2020 Satish Verma |
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