Theme: Life


While writing a poem
I make a blood hole in my hand.
A walnut face opens the wrinkles
to find a jade green nephrite for colicky times.
A prelude to a death sentence for profane thoughts.
You think, you can postpone insomnia of the longest night.
The insects were waiting in wings
to crawl on your beloved body.


More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1365     Comments: 0

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