But I don't know
who was me, taking sunbath
to meet moon.
The marbles slip from
your hands to hit the white
mausoleum at dusk.
Dip any muse and
words bleed. I will not ask
for orphanage.
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: January 25th, 2024 21:33
- Category: Nature
- Views: 1
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