Theme: Life

Next Night

I hate the self-immolation 
of orange sex. 
Weather was leaving 
blue strings on the skin. 

Redemption was incomplete 
by sharing the legs 
Lips will not knead 
the ears. 

Like wakng in darkness 
for a passage to grief. 
Black moon will step aside 
for a flame at the end of tunnel.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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