16 lutego 2013
GREEN PASTURES
in lunatic scape of
fringed labellum
the creeping malignancy was advancing.
i missed a rendezvous with moon
when you had brought a blue kiss
from abducted lips;
again I become a sisypus
lifting the rock off your comets
of round tangerines.
something was missing from our parched
lilies, this teaching was hurting, in our maniac depression
tampering with our melting,
the body had left the golden leash,
the first liberation from nagging pain of verbs
the noun moved farther than silent classics
shadows in between
the fatalities
Satish Verma
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Yaro