satishverma

Bowls Are Empty

Category: /General/

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I am developing awareness
of your parted lips. Something was
left to say, your ankles had stopped ringing,

I am not a holder of
candles. Want to stay in the dark to
look at the falling moon on the burning pyre.

Barefoot I walk on the
hot ashes, after the collective suicide
of the utopia, without a war.

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