Satish Verma

Veteran Poet - 1,131 Points (5-6-1935)

NO ROOM


Trapped necklace:
after a kiss of bee
to find the hive.

Honey spills from the
urns. I wet my moons in night.
Wind snatches a sun.

Let's go back to bricks
for the moral blindness of
king without crown.

Submitted: Thursday, January 03, 2013
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