Blemishes

satishverma

Without assent
I open your book
to find your crazy god on mat.

Love was a blind bird
in a state of agony.
Learning to fly.

Moon would not reply
through aslant door.
Something was between us.

Here, now a sordid tale
breaks the taboo. They
were investing on skin.

It was a cheap wine
in a golden chalice,
for a lipless mouth.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 3rd, 2016 22:55
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 13


To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.