Standing Under The Bo Tree

Folder: 
Satish Verma

You owe me nothing.
Renegade, my jewels were stolen.
Incredible, the squirrel goes on fast.

Wounded by words, you
were becoming daisy. Magic, magic
to fill in the empty mind.

An unique kiss still haunts.
An anniversary present to stitch the veins.
No blood moved after the accident.