At dusk, I will smear
your lips to color the moons.
Acts like Midas touch.
The dunes tend to
shift from the shivering hands,
when the knuckles bend.
The scope expands.
You will walk on periphery.
I will tow the line.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 2nd, 2023 21:11
- Category: Nature
- Views: 4
Offline)
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