In candid silence,
we come closer, and
healing begins.
Where the moon
bends, I take revenge
on night, fumbling
with the garter stitches.
And what a poem
will do, without
touching your eyes in tears?
Star weavers want
to knit purple moon on your
veil before you walk
away as a bride.
Don't keep your
mind empty. Somebody will
put a newly born
to fill in thought.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 8th, 2022 19:54
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
Offline)
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