Pink Reminder

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It slithers, the tongue 
trying to find 
the rage on cold words. 

A window 
shuts on fire for a deliberate 
withdrawl from conflicts. 

The virgin iron 
becomes a corpse 
under the golden 
amnesia of hot greens. 

The colors are changing 
on face 
and the silky grass of paradise.

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