Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2016
A dumb copy of me.
You were done for.
Sometimes the design goes awry.

Ptosis. You are called for―
a fall. But you refuse
to die.

You survive the clouds, the
first moon, the brown eyes.
Me before the sun.

Let us take a risqué humor.
Forget each other
and become strangers.

One intentional error.
Honey, honey, honey.
Bees ready to fly away.

The shrine of a flier.
Where it was?
I was searching the sea.
Written by
Satsih Verma
230
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems