1 august 2012
MOVING OFF
After a long time, I heard them again:
peacocks.
Bequeathing the pilgrim sun to palm trees;
poised to open sexuality.
Ah, the purple lips of a downing
cloud sets the sky on a chase
for a lost love of the blazing
moon in the starless night.
A recent pluck of a sharp grace folds
the lingerie, you open the fist to let
the explosion fly away.
This was the start of a crimson romance.
Satish Verma
28 march 2024
2703wiesiek
28 march 2024
It Is Getting DarkSatish Verma
27 march 2024
NarcyzJaga
27 march 2024
2703wiesiek
27 march 2024
To były piękne dniabsynt
27 march 2024
Drobiazgi.Eva T.
27 march 2024
Wearing The Crown Of ThornsSatish Verma
26 march 2024
Margo5absynt
26 march 2024
2603wiesiek
26 march 2024
Good ByeSatish Verma