The animal wakes
in you, when moon cries.
I bend to lift the sun.
Blood has no Dharma.
I sit as an amber fossil.The
ripple in dust will not take it.
I am worrird about you.
The mating between words
gets ready to fight stigma.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 29th, 2024 21:26
- Category: Nature
- Views: 14
Offline)
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