4 december 2019

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

For The Skin And Eyes

Not confessional.
Without reading the body
there was no room.
 
My fever rises
in limbs.
Giving me a double vision.
 
This was not my age.
Out of place, I
call for limestone.
 
The sea and
moon will make a castle
on the waves.
 
Whom do you call
careless? I was writing
the verse on blood paper.

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