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STRANGE
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Satish Verma All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.
Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.
The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.
You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.
The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.
Fingerless Hands
move shadows on sundials indeed! Nice image. The sun, the clock, the unmoved mover. :D ~slc~
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