Everlasting
A name breaks on the tip
of a pen.
Like a wildflower after a
violet end.
The yellow stripes will
enter the past,
retracing the path
of failures.
I pick up a broken thread
to weave a shade of blue flag
to open under the weight
of a guilt.
A cluster of doorknobs.
I retrieve my future
to lock the death
in erotica.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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