Speak less. The setting sun
behind you casts a shadow.
Can you plant a kiss―
On dry lips of moon.
A songbird was playing with
fire to jump in flames.
My hands are singed.
I was trying to collect the
melting wax of eyes.
Satish Verma
behind you casts a shadow.
Can you plant a kiss―
On dry lips of moon.
A songbird was playing with
fire to jump in flames.
My hands are singed.
I was trying to collect the
melting wax of eyes.
Satish Verma
No comments:
Post a Comment