[…] wilderside wrote an interesting post today onHere’s a quick excerptTurning me blue blithe thoughts had come like snakes wriggling, biting, leaving tooth marks. I remained holding a dew drop on the blade of grass. Essence was untouched. Night will change its dialect after a casual death. I contrive no more assemblage. No condolence for the razed home. The flames will leap again from words to describe the inspiration, as the sprouts break the earth. When the logic ends a kiss melts on the lips of fire. The rainbow pierces the clouds At the interface of sky. SATISH VERMA […]
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