PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The sexless hiccoughs 
have started, 
in the valley of death planet. 

Sovereignty of pure 
kiss, in garden of moons― will 
feel threatened. 

Cannot wipe out 
the darkness. The hooded 
fear splits the white heels of running sun. 

I jump over the sharp blades 
of swaying Passiflora, where 
pouting lips spread the dark berries. 

The paper boats will 
not touch the bottom of lake. 
You can collect the relies on red beach. 

Not you, not me 
will prove the virginity 
of truth.