In small pieces
you come back to live
in my dark poems.
The otherness haunts.
Geneology goes back
to moon. I suffer.
The grinding wheels
move to find out the truth
of splitting grains.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 19th, 2024 19:32
- Category: Nature
- Views: 3
Offline)
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