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pragya-santaniPoems
I write him in my sentences, I write him in my diary. I print him on pages, I print him on stories. I carve him on stones, I carve him in designs. I sketch him in my moans, I sketch him in my mind. I etch him in tattoo, I etch him on woods. I sculpt him in statues, I sculpt him into the man he stood. I inscribe him on ripples, I inscribe him on the swirl of my wine. I draw him in circles, I just can’t draw the line.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
Circumference
I write him in my sentences, I write him in my diary. I print him on pages, I print him on stories. I carve him on stones, I carve him in designs. I sketch him in my moans, I sketch him in my mind. I etch him in tattoo, I etch him on woods. I sculpt him in statues, I sculpt him into the man he stood. I inscribe him on ripples, I inscribe him on the swirl of my wine. I draw him in circles, I just can’t draw the line.
pragya-santani
Written by
pragya-santani
Indian
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
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