Time To LeaveA Poem by Satish VermaTime To Leave
Sipping the light
from moon, playing with dandelions, do you remember me? Milky latex on your hands, you squeeze the round seeds, as if to become steady― for a denial. I will never know the― difference between the twins. Pain and ecstasy of loving the thorns of rose hips. Stay there, where you were comfortable. Standing on the edge of a steep rock I am waiting for― the fall. © 2021 Satish Verma |
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