You are peeling me off
like a crab.
Time has sunk very low.
For the hungry kids
who was growing crab apples?
Creating art,
arriving between the pubes.
A microfossil
roosting within me.
I could live without oxygen.
Incandescent,
the liquid wounds.
I will not send any salvo.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 25th, 2016 23:10
- Category: Nature
- Views: 13
Offline)
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