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Theme: Life Share This Page
Oblivion
by Satish Verma
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  A cutaneous drip. 
The young moon drinks the dew 
unbuttoning a rose. 

A fierce wind rubs 
against the golden triangle 
to invite a violet sting. 

Eyes armed with green thumbs 
go for a swim in rage. 
The lake unloosens a blood moon. 

No incense will rise 
from the tomb of a lover, 
unless he dies with a style. 

Crossing the gray lines, 
I will not take your lips; 
paralyzing the silver tongs.
Share This:
March 04, 2013
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 725      Comments: 0




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