Poetry

You should not
have done this? Trespassing
the virginity of the
olive branch and the ashes.

I will borrow the
words to clean blood
in your eyes. A lovely
jasmine will sit on your lips.

The death holds its
own mercy between good
and bad. Any fondling
of moon was a bliss.

Where will dysplasia
go, after giving an unbearable
loss? You cannot roll the
carpet after the blaze.

The tangerines will give
a big surprise.