A retrograde flow
of subtlety. The
letters have gone out of shape.
Can you read the
fog, when night stalls
the moon?
How do I express
my agony, this huge precipice
of denials?
Love your enemy
was not my cake. A
tender no was enough to subtract.
Suddenly you start
flirting with yourself. After all
you melt in the picture
of fall.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 9th, 2020 19:35
- Category: Nature
- Views: 3
Offline)
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