Theme: Life


the needles
on abbreviated lips.
Handful of sand
hauling uphill.

Code of particles
feels the entire lie.
You wear mauve
when I cry.

Like diatoms
in eyes...
Erase the sun
from my hairs...
I am turning black.

The brine
has encroached all around...
The brown grass, the soaked laughter,
but I will come again in disbelief.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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