satishverma
Exiting Fog
Category: /General/
(269 views)
0
Water has no feet. 
With cupped hands,
I will pick up
the crying baby.
When stars
go to sleep, I hear you
in dark, wandering
like amusk deer.
In a book
I will keep your eyes.
When you cradle in
Selene's arms, my thoughts
will catch a poem.
Once your mind
was not occupied with
my image, a fly of poison
bit me.
I was never the same again.
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