Theme: Life


All night November, 
I was searching the vulnerable 
lips after losing you. 

Now fingerless hands 
were moving the sun-dial 
away from light. 

The shroud was heavy, 
I would not breathe. 
Give me a blue moon before dawn. 

You cannot engage in 
sudden withdrawal. I will 
come back for a kiss. 

The paper that leaves a wound, 
I will not sign for the bread. 
My hands had stopped trembling.


More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1370     Comments: 0

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