Do Not Throw The Moon

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Satish Verma

My poems do not reach
you. Night still burns my heart,
and undresses my wounds.

Half-human in the
pages of epics. I find faces of leopards
digging the tombs with gloved hands.

Do I frighten you my
love? My clairvoyance shows my hands
tearing away all the pages of history.

S74rw4rd's picture

The language and the imagery

The language and the imagery in this poem are incredibly powerful.


Starward