There was a silky assault
by a gray cloud over the sickle moon
and I went crazy.
Moon said I will come again
for the glittering makeup
when the curtain are drawn.
Indelible tattoos on my breast
will haunt you whole night.
You must suck the stars meanwhile.
Come March, I will shower the
blue stains on your shirt.
It will remind you the number of nights
you slept with me.
Satish Verma
- Author: satishverma ( Offline)
- Published: July 3rd, 2011 23:24
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.