The troubled mind
seeks boundless words
for eccentricity.
You grab the hidden
kiss. Give me the smile
of a mooned heart.
At dusk you will talk
with eyes, trembling hands
igniting dry tips.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: April 1st, 2024 20:56
- Category: Nature
- Views: 0
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.