Enigmatic
The secular love:
you are contaminated
between skin and prayer.
Back from the odyssey
finding a crop-circle
in bridal chamber.
Rival was an alien
with a flat stomach
thinking black.
The thieving sperms
had a glorious end,
unentered in grass.
Your body was churning out
a religion.
I will find out my own god.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
