In downy pink I watch you go
my sun,
at night you will pluck moon flowers.
In half-moon eclipse
the morning glory will wake me up
in dew, alighting whole night
on the rose branch. I still smell
your lips. The head aches in
singing dark.
Welcome again, my ghosts of new year.
Satish Verma
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: November 20th, 2011 22:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
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