A face hides red eyes
behind you casts a shadow.
Can you plant a kiss?
On the dry lips of the moon?
A single bird was playing with
fire to jump in flames.
My hands are singed.
I was trying to collect the
melting wax of your eyes.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2024 19:47
- Category: Nature
- Views: 4
Offline)
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