Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2018
The leaning neck
of the moon, getting
intimate with
a tall pine.

Partheno-sculpting
a protégé, without touching
the essentials.

Somebody waits for your
footfalls. Somebody
loves you without telling.

Like sensory pits
of a viper. I smell
your heat.

The swaying hips
of downing night.
Sun was rising.
Written by
Satsih Verma
70
   --- and J
Please log in to view and add comments on poems