7 april 2012
Disbelievingly
Fraternising
the needles
on abbreviated lips.
Handful of sand
hauling uphill.
Code of particles
feels the entire lie.
You wear mauve
when I cry.
Like diatoms
in eyes.
Erase the sun
from my hairs.
I am turning black.
The brine
had encroached all around.
The brown grass, the soaked laughter,
but I will come again in disbelief.
Satish Verma
11 august 2025
Jaga
11 august 2025
absynt
11 august 2025
absynt
11 august 2025
wiesiek
11 august 2025
jeśli tylko
10 august 2025
Jaga
9 august 2025
absynt
9 august 2025
absynt
9 august 2025
Jaga
8 august 2025
wiesiek