Blind Story Poem by Satish Verma
Blind Story
When you're learning to
punctuate, love comes to fore. I
am writing your name on the moon
When the period to
scream comes, the light is aborted,
and you want to touch my lips in darkness.
Love began, when you
were not born. I sit in the shadow of
a ruined temple of no god.
Wednesday, January 24, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: life,lips
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8/29/2026 10:47:27 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
