Between Strangers Poem by Satish Verma
Between Strangers
When I speak to me
your golden skin listens, stretching
the pigments on your face.
The words disappear after
making tears. I start reading a
name on a shrine.
Everyday the worry comes.
How to remain a human being in
the jungle of sandlewood?
Thursday, September 24, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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4/29/2024 10:40:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A gripping lovely poem with oomph