satishverma
Knocking At Door
Category: /General/
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0
I would not bend the
truth. A grape in mouth
will stimulate the wedge.
Night will hammer on my chest
with glossy fists. I am born
again in your muteness.
A ghost line walks with me
to pull out the delicate verse.
Everyday a tulip is delivered
in the folds of woodcraft.
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