2 december 2012
IN MAKING
Spurred the kerosene
to burn the logistics.
I had moved on untrodden snow
of tanned gifts.
There was no tomorrow for me,
living from moment to moment.
The warships
had moved into positions.
Adoring the monotheisn, I still
loved many angels, you were
making many moons for me.
Breathless I was running after gold rings.
Terrible, the bell breaks my ankle
and the anklets emit the trembling
moons. Let us go out on the lake
I have many scores to settle.
Satish Verma
13 march 2025
marka
13 march 2025
marka
13 march 2025
marka
13 march 2025
marka
13 march 2025
marka
13 march 2025
wiesiek
13 march 2025
absynt
13 march 2025
Jaga
13 march 2025
ajw
13 march 2025
ajw