Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
Put on hold your pain,
outside our love. Your tears falling.
My hands to become flowers.

I go to milk tree to
pay back the debt. You rub my arms
gently. I shed my negatives.

Paradigm? Man says
ghosts live. A snake never leaves
her eggs. My poems remain induct.
Written by
Satsih Verma
38
   Eman
Please log in to view and add comments on poems