How would you talk to―
your unborn child, when lynching
mobs were waiting?
*
The insider was pure.
Still unknown to blood moon.
That was my other flesh.
*
Swallow all the darkness
of crying earth, I impel your
nails to scratch the sun.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: November 30th, 2022 19:57
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
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