13 july 2020
Loose Threads
Your thin white skin spreads
on the front. The blue
veins have become the strings,
annexing my peninsula.
You had said, it was a
bit of stretch, to cover the
lies of a fading sun,
for a delayed penitence.
Living water will bring clouds
to fill in the lakes of grief.
One day the lilies will grow-
meet in the air, for sombody's sake.
The black moon was still
raw. All the weeds had
become snakes. I start
hating this season of mating.
4 may 2024
N1absynt
4 may 2024
Izerska rzekakalik
4 may 2024
0405wiesiek
4 may 2024
Suffering Was RightSatish Verma
3 may 2024
M1absynt
3 may 2024
0305wiesiek
3 may 2024
I Was LostSatish Verma
1 may 2024
DogmaticallySatish Verma
30 april 2024
Justice PureSatish Verma
29 april 2024
AmnesiaSatish Verma