0.00
(0 votes)
You must login to vote
|
|
|
You wanted to understand
the tenor of wet, heavy lids ―
that had emigrated from
deep oceanic eyes.
You believed―it will go on
for ever. Roused in peace.
I will listen to the voice of river
lapping at the shores of pain.
Cocoon was lying still, will
not open to us. I was ready
to receive the death at door.
But it was a stripteaser.
The lovers will meet in the
wilderness, ride the lioness
and black berries will go to
moon for the payment of wages.
Satish Verma
------
SV
|
HEPATICA
