In the exodus of emotions
I try to flee human fears
in earth hour.
The sky will not be civil to me.
You had become a dark flame
like port wine.
Who was changing
the skin like a snake?
I was busy cupping a hemangioma
on the face of a moon.
Tucked between the breasts
a dream fumbles with a cyclone.
One more city dies
in my head. The streets
are walking back.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: December 14th, 2015 23:23
- Category: Nature
- Views: 10
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.