9 january 2020

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

Without Destination

You come to me like
a fall.
All the colors have arrived.
 
The being, an entity―
multiplies. For now,
in past, in future.
 
A will not move away very far
from the dots.
A tangent will lead you to me.

Contact with us



Report this item


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please Register