Will Not Forget

Flirting will broken bread I taste a bitter truth. I am entering into a stupor from head to toe. The intimate torture has begun. Trying to locate the dirt path back to home. The bird watching has come to an end. The meaningless ailing now bleeds from dark orifices. I return back your globe. The river has changed its course. It does not flow by my home. I am planting forget – me – not. Satish Verma