Like illegitimate sons <br />becoming nephews. <br />Stay with me I have lost <br />my ink. <br /> <br />An underground knife <br />cuts you to wrist, <br />you bleed on paper. <br /> <br />It was a tip of trust failure <br />after a wake up call by a loner; <br />the molten lava will find another <br />sexual pursuit. <br /> <br />There was nothing left to be <br />concealed, after the bonfires of veils. <br />The celibate tears come unbidden <br />I am going to encounter the pool.<br /><br />Satish Verma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nepotism-3/
