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.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: December 14th, 2015 23:23
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
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