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Poems :  Reverberations
Tags: Life  
 
Since my ash has
blown in your mirror
I am warming up to your surrogacy.

Too much deep,
expansive cleavage. I am climbing

down a canyon.

The phoenix:
finds the water―
in your eyes.

Writes a funeral.

No punctuation, the
unwritten poet,
will not last the night.

I am spelling out
the grief of the lonely man on
the deserted road, talking
incoherently.



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2016/6/1 4:12:04
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The Cameo
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DISORIENTED
SELF-WATCH
BETWEEN FEAR AND COURAGE
DISTANT VOICE
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