Sons, daughters in danger. A child is witheld. Last...
Conception of India. He is inside. Feelings and joyless.
A tug and a pull. Belief shall over-come. A spiritual.
Delightness, unto a stab at a wound. Wrinkles and why ?
For he bleeds deep inside. First none shall know him.
They pass him, kiss him and enter into miracles. Forever...
He dies. Oceans outside, his tongue, tips and lips. A red wave.
Shallows, bellowing our ankles. For smooth sensations gloom, and...
Glide. Mid-morning. Sue and her lies. And stab