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Nov 2018
Honey,
You had licked off-
all the salt of my being,
and knowing less of you
was becoming a bliss.

The absence
reconstructs the fragrance,
coming from nowhere-
transforming the feel of
unknown grace.

Sitting near a sickle
moon, watching
the full ascent of
quenchless desire.

It was a dark mound
of upheaval from which
the unslept angel would fall.

You may pick up
the glory of dawn.
Written by
Satsih Verma
  193
     Valentina, John Gallant, Yann and ---
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