Get Your Premium Membership

No Room

Trapped necklace: after a kiss of bee to find the hive. Honey spills from the urns. I wet my moons in night. Wind snatches a sun. Let’s go back to bricks for the moral blindness of king without crown. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs