Twist My Heart Again
Reached,
not yet pubescence:
a cloud says, moon was
crazy, treading on a
forbidden lake of frozen tears.
Breaking fast unto death
for releasing the doves
in sky of hymns.
The gametes were weary.
Procreation will wait.
Let the dark particles
start a ceremony of scoops
to carry the impatient twister
inside me,
to pull off the yokes and
set the flames free.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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