29 may 2012
Rendezvous
Wanting more of you
in the bed of moon,
where present and past
were disrobing.
The bee stings, O my god,
arrange the pure darkness
of milk,
hanging on persona of future.
The yielding was painful,
its blankness. You were
collecting the hooks. I was letting
free the fish.
Green was my perch
on the white paper,
rewriting your name without ink
for the sake of hunting the lamp.
Satish Verma
28 september 2024
2809wiesiek
27 september 2024
Zapachniało powiewem jesieni,Eva T.
27 september 2024
2709wiesiek
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26 september 2024
2909wiesiek
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Wyblakła miłość.Eva T.
26 september 2024
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25 september 2024
Usiłowałem liczyć owce,Eva T.
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To Tell The TruthSatish Verma