Bowls Are Empty Poem by Satish Verma
Bowls Are Empty
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.
Monday, July 5, 2021
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5/6/2024 12:00:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
