Walking in sleep
you tiptoed as if gliding
on the cold water.
The forest weeps.
Burning and billowing
for the deathless mind.
No slogans. I will
wear the hijab of moon
to meet my lover.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: April 4th, 2024 20:04
- Category: Nature
- Views: 1
Offline)
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