The white ribbon
gives you an angle.
Moon will rise from that point.
The summer dwells
in your poppies.
I was walking with feet of clay.
My eyes will collect
your scarlet lips,
for a deathless painting.
There it was, the body in
velvet, lying under the shade.
Only moon was naked.
Satish Verma
gives you an angle.
Moon will rise from that point.
The summer dwells
in your poppies.
I was walking with feet of clay.
My eyes will collect
your scarlet lips,
for a deathless painting.
There it was, the body in
velvet, lying under the shade.
Only moon was naked.
Satish Verma
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