Green Pastures

in lunatic scape of fringed labellum the creeping malignancy was advancing. i missed a rendezvous with moon when you had brought a blue kiss from abducted lips ; again I become a sisypus lifting the rock off your comets of round tangerines. something was missing from our parched lilies, this teaching was hurting, in our maniac depression tampering with our melting, the body had left the golden leash, the first liberation from nagging pain of verbs the noun moved farther than silent classics shadows in between the fatalities SATISH VERMA