Put off the lantern. I am waiting for the moon’s primal face. The lesser flamingoes were going to shed the pink color. Nude as a python, the kiss of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation. I suffer in the hands of protests.
It was night sin of domesticity. Dyed, I am loading the white secret of pain in the hollow of a mayhem. Till every blunder takes a downward flight striping the outsized image of a kill. His flames are now singeing
Full moon night Sky covers with stars You by my side What else I want in this dark Holding your hand and Walking through the path Laughing at the useless talk Now a good company I have got Looking into
THE NiGHT OF WORDS an assemblage of thought, Predicted a hint of rain the power of words,from the darkened sky, convey a message for a thought. Was it not one word that launched the words that built the world ?