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by Satish Verma Nov 21, 2022 category : Nature, environment / nature
The big toe like some ego, breaks the syntax. You cannot climb the poem. Time knows, whom to possess, when the thought moves out of the mind. Words were missing from your teeth. You won't bite the moon. Black lips print a kiss on white forefront, intersecting past and future. You learn to become still in witch hunt of a lost thread of sacred kill. Indeed you discover Yourself, reading the myth of modern Sisyphus and floating rock.