I Ask Nothing Poem by Satish Verma
I Ask Nothing
When a poem writes
you, I smell the
crimsoned moon.
Were you a possessed
angel, printing
desire on my palms?
Smeared on forehead,
the ash had left
the scars of kissed end.
You turn me on,
for a smile, before the honey
traces the question mark on lips.
There was no miracle
to retrieve the third eye
from the hidden love.
There was no miracle to retrieve the third eye from the hidden love.............brilliant 10+
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4/24/2024 12:57:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This is magnificent, sir Satish...10++