Miranda:
talk to your restive soul,
elementally abstract.
Home –
was minimal comfort,
for the flying birds.
Clock,
to explode today
on your face.
You were eying
the bride,
in turbulent sky.
Who had
brought the moon
at Agave’s feet?
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline)
- Published: December 3rd, 2015 22:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 16
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